


Winter Solstice

by RunePhoenix6769



Series: WINTER SOLSTICE [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Gen, Heavy Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunePhoenix6769/pseuds/RunePhoenix6769
Summary: It is often said that in the world of Remnant, the cruelest and hardest place is Vacuo and only the strong survive. Obviously, none of them have ever visited the Schnee Estate.Written for NaNoWriMo.   Quick fic just  pulling together various Schnee head canons.Just a bit of fun.If you would like to support me and buy me a KO FI ... Feel free and click below..http://ko-fi.com/formerlyrunephoenix6769Part 1 of 3





	1. Riposte

The 36th Remnant fencing championship was in full swing as Winter prepared in a private dressing room her father had commandeered, much to the teenager’s protests. For the last few months, she had worked her way through the table of 64 competitors and up into the top ranking 16. 

Now it boiled down to this bout between her and another competitor to see who would be crowned Remnant’s 15 year and under World Champion. Her coach, Violet, fussed over her checking the body wire under her chest protector as Winter prepared a fresh bib to the lower part of her mask. 

“Now remember,” Violet began, as she popped her fingers under the rim of the wire making sure that it didn’t dig into Winter's lower stomach due to a sudden unfortunate growth spurt, “ – Keep your blade up, his bind is weak. “

Winter mutely nodded. Her coach continued, 

“Be mindful of his Balestra. Break ground if you have to or change the beat.” Her coach held up a water bottle with a bendy straw, “- Drink!” 

A commotion could be heard at the door, the voice of a steward attempting to protest. At the sound of her father’s voice, Winter’s heart began pounding in her chest as she tried to keep her face neutral and breathing in check. Violet gave her shoulder a soft motherly squeeze, 

“Try to stay focused, Leibling.” Handing Winter her gloves, she asked “- Do you want him to come in?”

A fixing the martingale to her slender wrist, she shook her head, 

“No, I do not want him here. I need to stay focused and I can not if he is breathing down my neck.”

She sat on a nearby bench rechecking the button on her blade as Violet exited the dressing room. Taking a breath to steady her nerves as she had been taught to do, she cast her eyes around the room. Posters adorned the walls, faces of previous champions who had become Huntsmen and Huntresses smiled down at her, her gaze finally coming to focus on an advertisement for Atlas Academy. 

Typical military jargon and propaganda her father would call it, as it depicted a rather handsome and stern General standing broad-shouldered and at military rest asking what you could do to help the world. 

Become an Atleasian Specialist! 

Airships flew out in the background and uniformed youngsters, stood at prideful attention to the side. 

Stepping up close, she examined the dates and details. Application would be by transcripts from a pre-attended combat school or proof of experience in the field via open bouts through invitation. 

She wondered what it would be like to go to a school like that surrounded by people her own age from different walks of life. To have a group of friends she could share her day with. To attend classes about Grimm and learn new things rather than the academic and social etiquette education she received at home from her numerous private tutors. After her Opa had passed she had broached the subject once about attending a boarding school. Her mother had done her best to bat for her understanding the girl’s up in the lofty heights of the estate with only a young baby sister to keep her company. Her father had scoffed at the idea, why waste money on sup par accommodation, service and education, when the best was available at his fingertips?

She would remain at home where she would learn what it was to be a Schnee and the Heir to the one of the biggest conglomerates in the world.

“Are you thinking about going?”

Winter whirled round, embarrassed at being caught and unaware of her coach’s return. She gave Violet a wane smile, 

“No. I do not have the necessary experience required,” Her brows knitted together, “- Besides, Father says that as the Heir to the Schnee Dust Company, I am to attend business school.”

The older woman gave her a soft smile and pitiful eyes. It was a look Winter had begun noticing much more of late, not just from her coach but other people. It was a disturbing change from the over eager wannabe hangers on, or the hateful glares that had recently turned venomous.

The tannoy crackled to life causing Winter to flinch.

“Competitor’s 13 and 43 to the arena. 5 minute notice.”

Numbers rather than their names, yet another concession that had been made due to her attendance, security for the event had been beefed up much to the annoyance of the other competitors. another demand by her father due to the rise in violence threatened in their direction. 

It had been all over the news, collapsed dust mines, a valiant effort made to save them undercut by an expose by Lisa Lavender on the SDC’s business practices. It had poured dust on an already volatile open flame. Mass protests had sprung up outside any SDC office. Miners were striking all over the world. A call to boycott using any products of the SDC or any of its subsidiaries had sprung up all over the CCT. She had been forced to close down her own Grimmstagram account due to the sheer number of death threats. 

Recently the White Fang had infiltrated one of their offices in Mistral, whilst a car bomb had killed one of the board members and his family. On the news, she had watched as the Faunus had cheered, waving effigies of her father hanging from a rope as behind them one of the warehouses burned, gleefully clapping the explosions as the dust crystals had over heated. Workers, human and faunus alike had perished.

Luckily in Atlas things seemed a little calmer, yet it paid to be cautious. 

Tucking her mask under her arm she waited patiently by the entrance to the tunnel that would lead down to the out of the arena as Violet quickly collected her gym bag. Satisfied she stepped out to be met with huge private body guards. They flanked her as she made her way down on to the arena floor. 

Stepping out into the light she blinked as Violet guided her to their allocated bench. Dutifully, she handed over her sword as an official began making checks that no tampering had occurred. Unseeing, she lifted up her arms and stood tall as another checked her body wire and chest protector for any sort of loose wiring or attempt at cheating. 

In her mind’s eye she played over the bouts she had watched over and over in hours of study, Footage from other matches, she went over her opponent’s weaknesses, and counters she had practiced. Satisfied, the official gave her the all clear and she was handed back her sword. 

Another official guided her towards her waiting pen, with her private body guards hot on her heels, as Violet stayed behind to check the paperwork. The arena was huge, a heavy crowd had turned out, much larger than was usually normal. The clacks of metal upon metal echoed as the bout for bronze played out. Her mouth ran dry as the teenager began to check her gloves fit snugly, pushing in between each fingers with the opposite hand. 

Rummaging in her gym bag, her fingers closed round the water bottle. At the far side of the room a commotion broke out. Leaning forward so she could see, she was surprised to find Violet and the opposition’s coach going through the motions of a hushed but heated argument. 

The cameras set round at numerous vantage points turned to take it in, Winter immediately ducked her head, becoming acutely of the camera suddenly pointed in her direction, pretended to be searching for something. Taking a quick breath she set her features, forcing herself to look passive and unfazed as she fingered the coquille of her blade. Violet banged through the door.

Using her hand to hide her mouth from the camera’s glare, the young teenager asked in apprehension, 

“What is wrong?”

Violet held up a piece of paper to hide her face from the camera's view, 

“Its nothing. Just a bit of a discrepancy on the notes. ” 

There came a loud beep indicating a successful hit and a deafening cheer went up from the crowd. Violet crouched down, keeping the paper in place, 

“Remember what I said.”

Winter nodded,

“My strength lies in my circular parry, his bind his weak, he favours a compound attack.” 

They said in unison, 

“Whatever you do don’t let him get a cadence!” 

The tannoy called out,

“Bout 16, Junior World Championship title. Number 43 Khenet Chausie of Vacuo and Number 13, Winter Schnee of Atlas.”

A loud murmur went up from the crowd sounding like the sudden flight of a flock of starlings. Violet gave Winter one last sip of the water bottle before slinging the gym bag over her shoulder. Slipping on her mask, she waited as her bib was attached and placed correctly, feeling a reassuring pat that all was secure. Tucking her sword under her arm she stepped out into the arena, approaching the officials table at the base of the dais. 

Ignoring the knot of apprehension in her stomach she, instead, concentrated on the boy opposite her. He had an inch or two on her but she noticed it was all chest, in his breeches his legs seemed short but looked powerful, no doubt helping the balestra he was famed for, however shorter legs meant shorter strides, making breaking ground more difficult. 

“Miss Schnee.” An official barked, struggling to be heard over the rising noise of the crowd. 

“Sorry?”

“I asked, Semblance?”

Straight to attention she made her voice clear. No doubt her father would be watching somewhere in a private box with potential business associates. 

“Glyphs.” 

“Ah,“ The official gave her a knowing smile, “- The famous hereditary semblance. And your summoning?” 

Inside her mask, Winter’s nose twitched. Her summoning was a shambles, having only defeated a small rat and quite by accident. The thing had given her a fright in the barn and she had skewered it on the spot, but she would be damned if she was going to let him know. 

“Adequate.” 

She watched as the official made note of it. 

“And you?”

“Light clones.” The Vacouan boy seemed to leer down at her through his mask, “Nearly mastered it too.” 

“Right,“ The official continued, “No use of semblance of any kind... understood? The use of Aura for deflection will be classed as an annulment of hit. Each play will be analysed by the officials over there,” He gestured to the far side of the arena. “- And here. The floor judges on the dias will make final call on each bout. First to three wins the match. Is that understood?”

The two teenagers nodded.

“Now get up there and most importantly, have fun.”

As she stepped out on to the dias a quite hush began to descend upon the crowd. A middle lines man beckoned them to approach. Meeting in the middle, the linesman put his arms round both their shoulders drawing them close, 

“I want a good clean match, ok.” Again the teenagers nodded. “- Shake.” 

The linesman stepped back. Winter offered out her hand only for the Vacoan boy to take it giving it a hard squeeze. He pulled her a little closer, and she heard him mutter in his thick accent, 

“Murderer.”

She looked up and from inside his mask she could make out burning golden eyes. Before she could react, he gave her hand a hefty shake before letting go and turning back towards his starting point. 

For a brief few seconds, the floor tipped. In her gloves her hands began to shake and she struggled to keep hold of her crosse grip. She tried to calm herself as she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and her mouth suddenly became dry. Holding up her finger to indicate she wished to approach her coach, she waited until she was given the all clear. Aware that all eyes of the arena and the CCT on her, she tried to remain as calm as possible as she steadily walked to her coach. 

Could he be a faunus?

How had that not come to light? She tried to think of all the footage she had watched over the last few months. There had been no indication in his movements other than his cadence. Maybe that’s why his compound riposte was so deadly? 

Violet stepped up, making a show of removing her bib as Winter rambled, 

“Violet, I think he’s a faunus.” 

The older woman lifted the bottom of her mask,

“So?”

The images of twisted metal of the car and surrounding debris came to the fore. What if someone was here? 

"What if..."

“Look at me.” Coach demanded. “- He is doing it to psyche you out.”

“But what do I do?” Winter began to babble, “- I cant ..”

Violet shoved the straw under the mask and into Winter’s mouth, giving the bottle a squeeze. 

“Yes you can!... This is exactly what he wants, you on the back foot. He wouldn’t be saying it if he wasn’t scared or didn’t think you were a threat. “ Winter gulped, as Violet gave another swift squeeze. “- You go out there and you thrash him like you would anyone else.” Using her sleeve, Violet wiped the young girl's chin, before fixing the mask and reattaching the bib. “-You ready?”

Winter looked out at her from her mask, for the first time feeling naked and vulnerable under the camera’s intense glare. Violet’s tone became forceful, 

“Forget everything else…. Go out there and kick his arse… You’ve got this.”

Taking a deep breath, Winter nodded in quick succession. Turning back, she kept up her mantra.

'Winter, you’ve got this' as she reattached the maringale from her wrist to her sword. She stepped up to the line, dropping her hand to indicate she was ready. Not a few feet from her Khenet looked relaxed. Setting her stance she looked for the black mark on the wall behind him that would keep her fencing line. 

“On guard.” The floor judge called out. They both stepped up to the line, “Allee”

They both advanced, with a swift appel and an angulation he rushed with a balestra as Winter attempted to circular parry his blade in defense only for him to sneak past her with a beat and hit her in the chest. The beep of her defeat rang out and the crowd clapped. In annoyance Winter shook her head, checking her foil as she returned to her position. 

“On guard” the floor judge called out again. “Allee”

Winter approached in a flurry, pressing the attack, suddenly he feinted, leaving Winter wide open as she tried to use her longer legs to the advantage but she was in too deep to retreat. The buzzer rang out indicating yet another hit. The crowd applauded loudly. Someone even hooted. 

Trying to ignore it, she began berating herself. 

Get yourself together Winter. 

What would her father think? She could imagine what would happen if she lost. The belittiling, the loss of his favour, the constant barrage of nit picking. The hour long standing ram rod straight as he gave her a dressing down about their place in the world as Schnees and how she was single handed destroying their reputation.

"On guard..... Allee.."

They came at each other again, Blades clashed as he tried to goad her into another mistake yet she pressed him, forcing him to break ground, she lunged forward hitting him square in the chest.

The anger bubbled in her stomach. How dare this upstart call her a murderer? She would be a fool to let him in her head. She was Winter Schnee, from a line of fencing and swordmasters. From her starting point she came at him a second time, with a swift angulation at the last second she lunged taking advantage of his broad long torso hitting him in the shoulder. 

There came a round of applause, marginally quieter than her opponents.

“Final bout.” The floor judge announced. 

A tense hush came over the crowd and Winter could feel the electricity in the air. Her grandfather’s voice echoed in her head, as she approached. 

“Remember your training Winter. Head up, shoulders back, right foot forward, - slow your breathing, wait for the right time to strike.” Khenet's movements seemed to happen in slow motion, Winter parried and feinted “….And … Now!”

Winter lunged, her arm extended until she felt the tip of her sword make contact. The buzzer rang out and the floor judge called it, indicating a honest hit.

Applause rippled through the arena as Winter turned her name lit up the screen. Ripping off her mask, she spun round, unable to quell the ear to ear grin on her face. She was Remnant’s 36th Junior Fencing Champion. 

The arena suddenly went from rapturous applause giving way to a cascading, disturbing quiet. Turning round she saw Khenet still standing on the dias. He had removed his mask to reveal a pair of twitching tawny brown ears, stuffed with ear plugs. 

She paused for a brief moment, remembering that all eyes of the world were watching. Elegantly, she peeled off her glove before sticking out her hand. Khenet stared at it for a heavy few moments. His coach in his heavy lilting accent gave him an encouraging nudge. 

“In the spirit of sportsmanship, you 'will' shake her hand.” 

Khenet grasped it, pulling her towards him and wrapping an arm round her shoulders. As he waved at the applauding crowd, he growled in her ear, 

“Next time, Schnee, you might not be so lucky.”


	2. A Sorrowful Parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNo WriMo entry 3 
> 
> Just a quick fic, for fun.. 
> 
> Corralling a few Schnee Headcanons I have into a lil ditty. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

PART TWO

 

Back in the safety of the dressing room and far from prying eyes, Winter let out a squeal of delight, allowing her sword to clatter to the floor as she flung herself into the arms of her coach, who hugged her, spinning in heady celebration. 

“I did it! I won!” 

“Yes, you did Leibling!” Violet squeezed her tight, “I’m so proud of you!” Letting go, she gave the teenager a wide smile, “- Now, you must shower and get ready, the award ceremony will be starting soon.” Her practiced nimble fingers beginning to untie the back ribbons of the chest protector and wire underneath. “Arms up.”

Winter dutifully obeyed, glad once the oppressive armour was off. Still buzzing from her victory, she tried to wriggle out of her breeches, 

“I was right, he was a faunus.” She rolled out the pant legs only for them to get stuck on her ankles causing them to turn inside out. Plopping back down on the bench, she stuck her legs out. “He was so fast, he almost had me.” 

Violet let out a laugh as she began to tug on the breeches, 

“I never doubted you for a second.”

“I got him with that feint though, didn’t I?” "Yes you did! It was crafty."

With one last hefty tug the breeches came off along with her socks. Before her coach could start folding them, Winter reached,

“Let me.” 

She meticulously folded her clothes, making sure the creases were lined up and straight. It was a chore her father often told her was beneath them but it was something she took joy in giving her the feeling that she could take care of herself. Her coach began to gather their belongings scattered throughout the room, Winter's eyes flickered to the Atlas Academy poster. Hot on the heels of her success, maybe this would be the perfect time to make a request. 

“Violet?”

“Yes, leibling,”

Winter peeled a towel from her gym, bag wrapping it round herself, 

“I was considering, maybe, progressing.”

“Progressing?” 

“From the epee to the sabre.”

Standing behind her, Violet began to peel off Winter’s hair net and remove the million and one pins it took to hold it in place, teasingly she asked, 

“So you think you’re ready for the sabre, eh? It is a whole different sort of movement and swords play. ”

Winter gave an indignant tip of her head, 

“I do!” She turned, to look up at the woman who had become a second mother to her with a proud grin, who with gentle hands began to coax Winter’s long coils of white hair over her shoulders, “It’s my family’s legacy.” 

“If that is what you want-“ The woman mirthfully bopped her on the nose, causing Winter to giggle and shake her head, “-That is what we shall do! Now go shower, you don’t want everyone to think that you are a smelly little grimm.”

Winter shot her a grin at the moniker before padding into the shower block. 

Underneath the soothing hot water that prickled her skin, she happily hummed away a song favoured by her younger sister. She couldn’t wait to tell Weiss and her mother. Yet another trophy to add to the collection in that adorned her father's walls, maybe if she asked nicely he would consider taking her personal trophy for his office and allow the larger one to rest in the family case alongside her mother’s and Opa’s trophies and shields of victory.

After her name was engraved on it, of course. 

Over the heavy thrum of the shower, muffled raised voices began to drift into the bathroom. Winter froze, straining to hear. 

“…useless…. Wastral.. pay.” 

“Sir…”

“Where is she?”

Goosebumps began to stipple the young girl’s pale skin, as her father’s irate voice boomed, echoing with the acoustics of the room. "Winter Schnee! 

“Sir.. She’s..”

“Woman, get out of my way......”

With a shudder, she watched the soap suds swirling round the drain. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t heard him. 

“Winter Wisteria Schnee, Get out here this instant.”

Inside the cocoon of the cubicle, she turned the dial, holding onto it to steady herself as her legs began to quiver.

“But Sir.” She heard Violet begin again. 

“I will not have it! She came close to losing…. And to an animal, no less!” 

Squeezing her eyes shut and a bid to stop the tears that threatened to spill as her father continued his barrage, 

“What on earth are you teaching her? I do not pay for marginality, I pay for perfection.”

Hurriedly, Winter wrapped a towel round herself as her father began to gather steam. 'Dont allow him to get a cadence'. Head bowed, she reluctantly stepped out of the cubicle. His eyes like icy glimlets focused on her. He roared, 

“What was that display? That was mediocre at best! Your form was sloppy, your sword engagement lacklustre.” Winter cringed as he bellowed, “Look at me and stand up straight when I’m talking to you!”

The hard edge to his voice had, like molten dust, poured down her spine made her instinctively correct her stance, attempting to fix a point aside from his gaze. The vein is forehead was bulging; his cheeks mottled an ugly red. Every word, lashing her like an epee, slicing into her skin. 

“But Father, I won!” She admonished, immediately regretting her momentary lapse in propriety as his eyes tightened and his mouth set into a grim line. 

“That is neither here nor there. You missed opportunities and failed to take advantage of his flaws.”

“But…” Shivering against the cold water rolling down her skin, she began to protest. 

He hissed, 

“What were you thinking shaking that filthy animal’s hand first?” 

“I … I .. I wasn’t..”

Winter bit into her bottom lip with her teeth in a bid to stop it trembling. 

“Exactly,.. You never think...” He continued, his voice becoming menacing, “ Today your actions brought nothing but shame to the family…Do I need to remind you that you are a representative of the Schnee name and shall behave as such. What you did today will give them ideas above their station. That the SDC is some…” 

Winter’s face crumpled, fearful she could no longer hold back the rising tide, she bit through her lip, the tell tale metal taste of blood on the tip of her tongue. 

Her Father spat, 

“You are a disgrace!” 

Violet stepped in front of her shielding the young girl behind her with her hand, and with a forceful growl,

“That .. Is.. Enough!”

For a moment her father’s face looked as if he had been slapped.

“What!!” 

Nothing good could come of this as the teenager watched her father’s nostrils flare drawing himself up to his full height. Winter gave a small tug at the back of her coach’s tracksuit jacket, timidly begging, 

“Violet…. Please…”

The older woman held one hand out keeping Winter firmly behind her,

“Your daughter is the junior champion of the WORLD! The least you could do is show her some modicum of support! Maybe .. I don’t know.. tell her you’re proud of her??” Like a raging Ursa, Violet seemed to swell and grow tall, “-And another thing, everybody who competed today deserved to be here. They are the best of the best.. In.. The.. World regardless where they come from! Everybody here has put blood, sweat and tears getting to this standard.” The coach began gesticulating with her arms, “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be a competition would it? Winter went out there, did her best and she won. What more could you ask for, you absolute buffoon!”

Chest heaving, the fencing instructor glared at Jacques Schnee. The only sound to break the sudden silence was the plinking of water dripping from the shower heads onto the tiles. It seemed to Winter like her Father sucked every available particle of the steamy air deep into his chest before he let it out in one huge burst, 

“YOU’RE FIRED!”

“AND YOU’RE AN ARSEHOLE!”

With a sniff, Jacques Schnee made a huge display of checking his cuff links and straightening his cravat. 

“Mark my words, Miz Hildebrand, I will make sure you never find employment in Atlas again!”

“Good,” She cavalierly replied, “I never liked the weather much anyway. Now get out of the ladies locker room, or do I have to call security?” 

Winter watched as his top lip drew back, showing his teeth and his eyes became pin point focused. He peered round the offending woman, 

“I want you presentable in ten minutes. You will find your attire on the bench. I will not tolerate tardiness.” 

Winter tried to steady her voice, 

“Yes, Father.”

At the sound of the door banging shut, Winter let loose the rising tide, clutching her protector round the middle as she sobbed. Violet held her tight, cradling the young girl’s damp head to her chest in an attempt to sooth her. 

“There, there. It’s ok.” 

Through her sobs, the shaking girl whimpered, 

“Please don’t go! Please….. Just apologise….. Please.” 

“I’m sorry.. Leibing..”

“Please…” She begged, “Tell him you didn’t mean it.” 

Tenderly, Violet attempted to stroke the wet hair out of Winter’s face, 

“I cant.. I cant take back what I said because it’s all true.” She began to guide Winter over to the sink, “Best not keep him waiting eh?” 

Reluctantly, she let go of the comforting warmth that smelt of polish and cinnamon. 

Making quick work of drying her hair and setting it into her signature bun, she savagely pushed the pins in that would hold it in place. 

Had she really expected anything else? She had been a boob to think otherwise. 

He was always like this, taking every bit of joy out of her life. It was because of him that her summoning was lack lustre, demanding she take a fencing instructor instead of her mother teaching her. 

She had adored the mornings with her mother, the pair of them rolling back the giant rug in the grand ballroom that protected the floor, the weak autumn sun, reflected off the snow of the mountain tops, twinkling, had penetrated the gloom of the oversized mansion. Dripping in sweat from the heat of the numerous fireplaces in full roar, practising her drills over and over, learning from her Mother how to parry, break ground, riposte. 

Even when pregnant with Whitley, Willow had begun to teach her eldest daughter the fundamentals of glyph usage, parting the wisdom that the Schnee’s could time-dilate and the best could even summon their vanquished foes. 

At the age of ten cusping on eleven, Winter had lost her first match, an argument between her parents had ensued and suddenly out of nowhere the lessons ended, Violet had come into her life, along with extra private tutors for her education. The children’s schedule had changed to education in the morning, music in the afternoon and sports in the evening, resulting in her seeing her mother less and less. 

Now he wanted to take away the only comfort she had known, other than Klein. 

With determination, she stepped back into the locker room to be greeted with a suit bag hanging off her locker. Unzipping it, she retrieved it from the hanger only to hold it at arm’s length. 

It was a dazzling white with hints of pale blue, the Family crest stitched into each shoulder. On the back a larger version but under pinned with SDC emblazoned across the back. The material felt stiff, more like a starched suit rather than the soft comfort of the track suit she had been looking forward to wearing. 

“I HATE IT!” 

“Winter.”

In a fit of temper, she tossed it on the floor,

“No! I’m not wearing it!” Watching as the water seeped into the material, marring the whiteness, a spiteful satisfaction built in her chest. It bubbled and boiled in her veins like a kettle on a furnace, “I hate him!” Pulling on her white t shirt and track suit top, with her name stitched in cursive and her Family emblem on the chest. 

“You don’t mean that!” 

Almost rounding on Violet, as she tugged at the track suit bottoms in an off light grey with dark blue accents, 

“I do! No matter what I do, nothing will ever be enough!” Hopping up and down, she tugged at the bottoms in frustration, “I hate the SDC!” She began in a tirade, “I’m not stupid, I know what they are doing, I know what people think of us. And it’s all entirely his fault!”

Zipping up her jacket, she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. A hint of colour crested on her usually pale cheeks. Behind her Violet lay a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe, when you are the head of the SDC you can change things?” 

A loud knock reverberated against the door. 

Cupping Winter’s face in her hands, Violet stood back, examining her, 

“Look at you” She stated like a proud mother hen, “You’re a picture. This will be the last time we see each other for a while, smelly lil grimm.” 

Winter examined her, she had never noticed the slight crows feet at the corner of the woman’s eyes, or how one was green and the other a mixture of gold and emerald, a few silvery hairs peeking at her temples. The teenager flung herself into a hug, breathing in the scent that over the last five years she had to come think of as home. Her eyes prickled as Violet hugged her back. 

Another bang. 

“Its time to go, Leibling.” Winter gave a sniff, “Its not good bye. We’ll meet again sometime soon.”

“Promise?”

 

“I promise.”

Reluctantly, Winter let loose her grasp. Collecting her gym bag and leaving the SDC uniform on the floor, she paused at the door, forcing herself to inhabit the skin she wore when in public and a sense of maturity into her voice, 

“Mistress Hidebrand, I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavours and I hope to remake your acquaintance in the near future.”

The woman gave her a warm smile, 

“Good luck, smelly grimm.”

In preparation for the coming fight, she straightened her shoulder’s far too small to be expected to bear the load of Atlas. She stepped through the door without a backwards glance, into the blinding white flashy lights of the press and the waiting ire of her father.


	3. Ready to Rumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a shortie.... Two part split. 
> 
> NaNoWriMo 5/11/2018
> 
> Wanted to get something up cause I missed yesterday. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Part 3 A

 

Lights popped and flashed as camera’s clicked away, the crowd of press edging round the door. Their personal bodyguards creating a protective barrier around them, Winter kept a bright and breezy smile, her gleaming white teeth showing, despite her father’s heavy hand resting just behind her neck and shoulders, a gentle squeeze in warning that she had angered him. He leaned down closer to her, so a photographer could catch the image of a proud father and his champion daughter, keeping his tone level he murmured out of the side of his mouth, 

“Why aren’t you wearing the uniform I provided?”

Winter remained bright as she waved at the photographers. 

“It does not fit!”

“Yes, it does. I had it tailored personally.”

“Well… Daddy… I have had a growth spurt.”

The body guards began to escort the pair through the labyrinth of tunnels; Jacques’ hand remained on her back, 

“You are exactly the same height!” 

“Oh… I didn’t grow up…Daddy...” Winter turned with a gleeful smile, “I grew across here!” She gestured to her breasts taking great satisfaction at the flicker of shock and embarrassment. One of the body guards gave a small cough. Her father’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, almost allowing his mask to slip in front of the journalists who dogged their every move, 

“There is no need to be vulgar.” 

A bespectled gentleman and his camera man approached, holding out a huge spongy microphone,

“Miss Schnee! Miss Schnee!” 

Wriggling from out of her father’s grasp, she gave the journalist a megawatt smile, 

“Yes?”

“We are from RXSPN, can we get a quick quote?”

“Of course!”

The camera man hoisted up the camera, adjusting his lens to get her in focus and take advantage of the best light. He gave the presenter the all clear. Winter waited expectantly as the journalist held out the huge mic.

“Here I have with me, Winter Schnee, Remnant’s Junior World Fencing Champion. How are you after that tense match?” 

“It’s a pleasure to be here Gregg. What can I say, the arena is great, the atmosphere is great, the crowd was amazing. .. Everyone who competed today did their absolute best. The calibre of people competing today…. It was a tough win, I can tell you that Gregg!”

“It seemed like you and Khenet Chaise were evenly matched.”

The years of coaching from the SDC’s PR team were paying off as Winter began to hit her stride. She gave a little toss of her head in an attempt to remove her side fringe from her face,

“We most definitely were Greg, everyone who competed today did their absolute best.. He really did bring his A game. There were a few moments there where I believed he genuinely had me!

Gregg took back the mic, 

“But you brought it back in the last few bouts.” 

“Yes, once I got my cadence I managed to clinch it. Khenet is a very talented fencer.” 

“So what is next for you, Miss Schnee?”

Standing behind the camera man, Winter spotted her father with the security team. Screw him. Turning on the charm she had been taught to skilfully wield, 

“I’m thinking about progressing to the sabre actually. I think it’s time I branched out. - ” Even from over here in the glare of the lights, Winter could make out her father’s posture round, and he slowly began to weave his way towards her, “-I think I’m ready to face a new challenge.”

“The sabre!” Gregg turned back to the camera, “You heard it first here folks at RXSPN, Winter Schnee is ready to rumble.” He turned back to her, “So what advice would you give to any little girl wanting to follow in your footsteps."

Winter felt the presence of her Father stepping beside her as the camera man looked out from behind the lens to give him a frown and a shooing motion to get out of the shot. Winter kept her eyes mirthful and her smile fixed, 

“I would say, if you are willing to put in the hard work, the effort, dedication to your duty then any one can achieve anything.”  
Her father leaned towards the mic, 

“It also takes natural talent and skill.”

Gregg looked momentarily flustered at the intrusion. 

“Mr Schnee? “ Holding the mic under Jacques nose, “What’s it like being the parent of a champion? “

“Today, the eldest of my children,-” He pulled Winter into him in an uncharacteristic, one armed, fatherly hug, “-Has done me proud. Never for a second did my faith in her winning today, waver.” 

It took all of Winter’s effort not to physically cringe and she thanked all those lessons she had been forced to take in preparation for her future role at the SDC. Another journalist pushed to the fore holding out a Dictaphone, 

“Mr Schnee! What do you say to those who stand opposed to your treatment of the Faunus workers?”

Everybody in that small corridor, packed to the brim with waiting eyes and ears, seemed to pause for brief second. Camera’s flashed, recorders whirled. Without missing a beat Jacques brushed off the comment with a chuckle, 

“This is a sporting event, hardly a political rally. That’s all we have time for, I’m afraid.. Its my other daughter’s birthday today. Isnt it Winter?” Beside him she nodded, “Weiss would be rather disappointed if her father and her big sister were to miss her special day.” He gave Winter’s shoulder an extra hard squeeze indicating that she was to follow and not cause a cause a fuss.

“What about the trapped Faunus?” 

He began encouraging Winter to walk forward, almost as if using her as a shield. Winter deliberately frowned at him as his voice became silken,

“Now , now I assure you, at the Schnee Dust Company are doing all we can to save the lives of the trapped workers.” The journalists tried to call out after them but were blocked by security. He waved like the smooth trained politician he was, “We shall keep the media abreast of the situation as it unfolds.” 

Away from the camera, he immediately put a distance between himself and Winter, ignoring her in favour of walking ahead. They were stopped by officials on the door that would lead to the small gathering in the sky lounge for the presentation of the awards. His annoyance at being stopped and asked for identification, adding a further insult to injury when the official refused to let him in until Winter found the security pass in her bag. 

He complained and whinged at the amount of time it was taking, oblivious that it had been his early demand of heightened security for the event that was the culprit. For a brief second she considered not admitting to the official he was on her list, it would serve him right to be left out here in the hallway. As she pushed her finger print against the scroll panel next to a picture of her taken for the Remnant Fencing Commission, she heard her father sniff, 

“RXSPN? What is that? Some news network?”

Winter tried not to scoff at how much of an oblivious old goat he was. One of his security team sheepishly said, 

“Its an extreme sports channel, Sir.” 

“Never heard of it! Have a big following does it?” 

The teenager rolled her eyes. It was only of the most popular channels on the CCT watched by millions. It was also televised on cable and covered just about every sort of sporting event on the globe. The Vytal Festival and Huntsmen bouts were known the world over. It might even have the exclusive rights this year. The official allowed then to carry on through to the sky lounge.  
The body guard continued, 

“It is relatively popular, Sir. Amongst the younger crowd at least.”

Jacques scoffed, 

“We have nothing to worry about then.” 

With another scowling eye roll, Winter dumped her gym bag into the unsuspecting arms of another faceless body guard clone, before setting off to find refreshments and muttering under her breath.


	4. When a Rogue Comes to Visit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWrimo
> 
> Part B of the Chapter 3. 
> 
> I'll amalgamate the chap when I'm done. 
> 
> Feel free to comment or like :) 
> 
> Enjoy. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

PART 3 B 

Accosting a beverage from the laden tray carried by a passing waiter, Winter sulkily cast her eyes round the room. Most of the crowd gathered here today were a mainly from Atlas, made apparent by the deep colours and militaristic style clothing that had come in fashion of late. The majority of the boys haircuts leaned heavily towards the army, short sides but long mops on top coiffured in oils to hold the quiffs in place, the women and girls much like her own, pinned up, but in different variations, the odd accent here of jewellery to signify a little individual flair. Some had far more jewels than others, indicating their wealth and status. But there were other people here from the outlying parts of Vale and Mistral, their styles a little more relaxed and not quite as formal.

Winter spotted the flash of a golden head dress atop deep red hair, Cassandra Nikos, beside her stood her parents who were animatedly chatting to another set of proud parents. Behind the tall athletic teenager a smaller girl who looked about Weiss’ age, peered out, agog at all the different sorts of weapons that passed her at eye level. 

The Nikos hailed from Argus and often from time to time they would cross paths in the same social circuits. She vaguely remembered her father scoffing at how they were barely just passable to associate with. 

To left of them, Winter spied Khenet with his coach, their brightly coloured and loose fitting outfits looking outlandish amongst the stiff suits, form fitted uniforms and tailored dresses of Atlas fashion. Her father wanted her to think like the future head of the SDC, then she would damn well show him just how erudite she could be. Swamping her juice, she deftly plucked another on as a waiter passed before making a beeline for him, calling out, 

“Khenet!” 

Winter caught the ever so slight swivel of his tawny ears towards her before he turned. He seemed almost surprised at being addressed, his ears flickering and twitching. 

“Schnee?”

As she drew closer, she continued,

“I wished to congratulate you on a good match.” 

Arriving, she smiled up at him, holding out her hand for him to take. His eyes flickered to his coach who nodded at him. He took it. She pulled him in close air kissing his cheeks. Somewhere a flash fizzled and popped. In his ear, she muttered, 

“Why did you call me a murderer?” 

Slightly taller, he blinked down at her in genuine surprise, 

“I didn’t!”

“But I heard you, just before the match.” 

He let go of her hand, his ears flattening and a flicker of disgust on his face, 

“Do you think so lowly of my people that you think I would cheat?”

“Well what did you say to me then?” 

“I said, Mathereuter,”

Baffled, Winter scrunched her face. Khenet smirked at her, 

“You’re clueless? …. I thought all you rich Atleasian people learned foreign languages?”

Winter continued to stare at him blankly. He gave a chuckle, 

“It means good luck in Menagease!” 

“Oh….” Ducking her head in embarrassment, Winter wiped in slight frustration at a crease in her tracksuit top, “.. Sorry..” After a beat, afraid he was somehow trying to humiliate her, she asked with suspicion, “I thought you were from Vacuo?”

“I am!” The boy smiled, “But I was born in Menagerie, it’s where my mother is from. My father, he’s a Bedouin merchant from Vacuo.” Khenet’s golden eyes, tightened at the corners, “What’s the real reason why you came over? Wont your father freak out about you grubbing down with the help?” 

The young teenager glanced over the gathering, her father, his white hair and suit bright like a beacon surrounded by the darker colours. By his body language alone Winter could tell he was no doubt in his element, holding court like some aristocrat of old. Bestowing seeds of wisdom upon the peasants who he deemed ought to be crushed under foot to remind them of their place. Furious at the insinuation that she was anything like him, she snapped, 

“I am not my father!” 

“But you *are* a Schnee?” 

See the field in which I plant the fucks I give and thou shalt see that it is barren, she thought darkly.

“I’m more than just a name!”

“Oh really? And how is that?”

Khenet’s coach let out a loud burp as he hovered closeby. Winter gave a disgusted sniff. With a haughty tip of her head, she looked the Vacuoan boy in the eye, 

“I came over here to congratulate you on a good match. As I doubt,” She gave a toss of her head, “ We shall see each other again on the circuit.”

“Yeah?” He snipped back, “Why is that?”

Winter set her shoulders, proudly announcing, 

“I am putting away childish things and progressing to the sabre.”

Khenet snorted, causing Winter’s eyes to narrow. 

“You?” He guffawed, “You’re progressing to the sabre? You know what that entails, right?”

“I do!”

 

“You think you have what it takes?” The faunus boy gave her a condensing look up and down. Winter bristled under the appraisal. “It takes… Creativity … A flair for the dramatic..”

“I can be creative!” Winter replied, indignantly.

Khenet laughed out right, 

“You? Be creative? You have to be one of the most predictable people I have ever competed against.”

“Well, I still beat you!” She churlishly snarled, 

“Like I said,” He lazily drawled in amusement, “You got lucky!”

A small round of applause rang out as the Winners of the Senior bout were announced and the three victors stepped up onto the stage. A round of camera’s flashing as a young man in the tell-tale dazzling white of an Atlas Military uniform raised the trophy shield over his head. Khenet quite unfazed, continued, 

“You can have your sabre. I’m just got accepted into a pre academy and then after than I’m going to apply to one of the big three!”

She retorted,

“You’re going to train to become a Huntsman? What are you going to do, poke a Grimm to death with that knitting needle you call a sword?”

The boy’s eyes flashed with anger, 

“Yeah, well when you have one and a ¾ light clones you don’t have to worry about anything else.” He bragged, “My father can do four and he says if I work hard I should be able to do five. What can you do?” 

Caught unawares, Winter found herself at a loss for words. Khenet’s ears pricked up as he grinned at her in triumph, 

“Exactly!”

Before she could come up with a biting retort, he shrugged himself off the wall stalking off into the crowd. Crossing her arms, Winter scowled at the infuriating boy’s back. A heavily accented voice piped up from beside her,

“You lost that one little Schnee.”

Khenet’s coach had tanned skin and weathered crows feet round the eyes. He smelt of perfume and his dark hair was long, licking against the back of the collar of his open, loose flowing shirt and open bright purple waistcoat, a bright orange sash tied round his lower middle, the silken cloth dangling down off his thigh to the knee. His pants looked baggy, bunching at the ankle and every time he moved his wrist gold bangles clacked off each other. He looked like he hadnt shaved, ever. From here, Winter caught a whiff of the stale stench of alcohol on his breath, causing her nose to wrinkle. He belched again, not even going to far as to cover his mouth or apologise,

“He’s quite right you know…. It does take creativity and a flare for the dramatic. .. But it also takes guile and a level of intelligence that boy doesn’t possess.” The young teenager was taken aback by the frankness and lack of loyalty, Khenet’s coach showed. He wiped his whiskers with a weather beaten hand, “ –Though it does pay to have a good basis in the fundamentals, you still have to be fast and constantly moving, taking advantage of your terrain. It’s not like today, in some bouts you will be expected to use your semblance.” His piercing indigo eyes focused on the girl. “Do you think you can learn to do that?”

Winter swallowed. 

Did she? 

She was no stranger to hard work, every day she trained without fail, whether it be until her fingers bled on the strings of the cello, her body ached from gymnastics and fencing, or the stress headaches from trying to master her glyphs. If she dropped the cello, she could focus more on building up her stamina or maybe coax her mother to begin teaching her summoning once more?  
Standing tall, she addressed the sword instructor, 

“I cant right now… But I 'shall' learn.” 

From inside his thick whiskers, his teeth gleamed white, 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

An official on the stage leaned in to the microphone,

“And finally, Remmant’ s 15 year and under Junior World Championship. Bronze. Cassandra Nikos. Silver Khenet Chausie and Gold, Winter Schnee!” 

“Better get a long Princess,” The Vacuoan took a sip of his glass ignoring how the red liquid slightly dribbled into his beard, “Wouldn’t want to miss your crowning moment now, would you?”

Winter threw him a dark look before setting off towards the stage to collect her hard earned victory


	5. A Pyrrhic Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWriMo Challenge
> 
> 08/11/18
> 
> A bunch of headcanons I am corralling together. 
> 
> Feel free to like or comment. 
> 
> Enjoy  
> -x-x-x

Wearing her first place sash over her chest and with large silver shield in hand, Jacques began to parade his daughter round the room. Each time they stopped at a group of people so they could congratulate her on the win, he would gloat about her dedication or how he pushed her to be the best she could be. 

The way he carried on it was as he had won it himself.

Each time the conversation would drift to business or politics. Again, for the fourth time, she heard the same boring topic, 

“Surely Jacques, a man in your position can’t deny that the economic disparity between Atlas and Mantle is astronomical?”

Like he was holding court, the practised CEO controlled the narrative, guiding it in the direction that benefited the conglomerate. Making sure that the people he deemed necessary over heard what he wished them to.

“We at the SDC are friends of the faunus and are doing our best to help facilitate economic growth in the area. “ Jacques’ took the diamond cut tumbler of Mountain Glen whiskey from a nearby bus boy, “Why just yesterday, the Schnee Family made a large donation to the fund. My wife is on the board of directors, which I am sure you all are aware.” 

She rankled at his use of her mother’s name and good works for his own end.

At the other side of the stage Winter watched wistfully as the other teenagers hung about, laughing and joking with each other, playing games on their scrolls, relaxed and carefree a much needed respite after such an intense number of months.

Why did she have to stand here, like an Atlesian automaton? 

“You look bored shitless.” A whisper came in her ear, causing Winter to startle, Cassandra Nikos laughed encasing her in an over the shoulder hug from behind, “Accents of red suits you like that, you should try incorporate it into your motif.” 

Cast in the same ballot, the overly affectionate red head had been the only person out of their peers who had seemed genuinely thrilled that the Schnee Heiress had been taking part in the competition. 

Strict rules demanded that all competitors must lodge with an assigned roommate. No exceptions to the rules, no matter how her father fussed. Three roommates had made requests for a transfer until Cassandra had breezed through the door, dumped her bag on the floor and dived onto the bed, kicked up her golden heels and introduced herself. At first Winter had been cautious, afraid that she was a hanger on, or worse, a competitor looking for an edge, but over the last few months sharing rooms at the numerous competitions, the girl’s genuinely friendly demeanor had won her over and it could almost be said that Winter considered the Argus girl a friend of sorts. Up until recently the two girls had kept a scroll correspondence back and forth, keeping the young teenager abreast of new music and swapping hair and make-up tips, some of which had ended with disastrous results.

“Why don’t you come join us?”

Winter shot a glance in her father’s direction, following her eye, Cassandra nodded knowingly.

“Oh, right…. But he can’t do anything about me staying here.” She retrieved her scroll from her pocket, finger making a pattern on the screen,“- How come you deleted your Grimmstagram? 

At the question, Winter shifted uncomfortably. What could she tell the only person who had shown any interest in her past her money, name or status? She could hardly tell her the vulgar messages and comments that had flooded her inbox describing in detail all the ways she and anyone she was associated with were going to die. How as a Schnee, she deserved to be violated in the most vicious of ways. It would only serve to frighten off the only person who Winter considered a friend. Attempting to play it off as cool, she cryptically parted,

“Oh, I just wanted to take a break.. You know, just concentrate on the tournament.”

“So you haven’t heard what Ralph Adel did then?”

Ralph Adel, from one of only a few families on Remnant who could come anywhere near to vying the vast amounts of wealth the Schnee family possessed, was a CCT sensation, renowned for his antics in the playgrounds of the affluent. More often than not, he was caught on the wrong side of the law only to get let off with a slap on the wrist. He could often be found smiling down from gigantic billboards or strolling the cat walk at Atlas Fashion week, modelling his mother’s creations, when not doing yet another court mandated stint in rehab. 

Rolling her eyes and going against her better judgement, she asked,

“Go on… Tell me what the cretin has done now.”

Glad to be the messenger of the salacious gossip, Cassandra animatedly began,

“He’s only gone and crashed his father’s yacht off the coast of Silas somewhere. He was drunk or something. Ran it a ground.. .. 10 million lien, down to the bottom of the deep blue sea.” Cassandra showed her pictures on her scroll, “Look at that!” The images flicked quickly as the girl continued to prattle on, “- He tried to claim the White Fang stole it and then that a Grimm attacked the ship. .. He got an extra million followers for his troubles”

If I did anything like that, my father would thrash me, Winter thought. If she so much as split a drop of water on the upholstery on the furniture she got a dressing down of a life time. 

“So what’s the story with you and the faunus boy? “ 

Catching her off guard, Winter sputtered, 

“What? … Nothing… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Cassandra giggled, teasing good naturedly, 

“I saw the way you were looking at him… You fancy him!”

“No, I do not!.... I don’t have time for such childish…. Idiotic… Notions… Dating is stupid..”

“I think the lady doth protest too much!-“ A mischievous glint appeared in Cassandra’s eye causing Winter to internally panic,”- You won’t mind if I call him over then?”

“Cassie… Don’t..” Winter hissed.

It was too late, 

“Khenet!!” Using her extra height, Cassandra waved over the crowd. “Over here!” 

Winter watched with dread as the faunus boy began to saunter over, holding up a plate over flowing with food as he navigated the his way through the crowd followed closely by his fencing instructor. As he drew closer, Cassandra pulled an over the top comical face, before nearly skipping over to him,

“Hey, Khenny,” She stroked her fingers down his arm, breathing in a flirtatious voice “-Winter was just telling me how much of a magnificent swords man you are.”

“Finally admitted did you?” He wiggled his eyebrows at the shorter girl, 

Winter bit back,

“I said nothing of the sort.”

Graciously, he offered out his plate and Winter caught the way his eyes roved over Cassandra as she made a huge display of being unable to decide between a delicate Valish cream puff or a beautifully crafted Mistrali sushi roll. After making her selection, he offered it out to Winter. All the different foods on offer were piled on top of each other. Carefully, Winter reached for what looked like a safe bet, a plain cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off, only for Khenet to ever so slightly pull it away in jest. 

“Why am I not surprised!”

Winter snatched the small white bread sandwich from the top of the pile, biting back the urge to stick out her tongue. Taking a superior tone, 

“I do not wish to risk food poisoning. It is my sister’s birthday and I want to be able to enjoy the birthday cake. We flew in a pastrie chef especially from Vale for the occasion.”

“You’re such a snob!”

The President of Remnant’s Fencing Commission suddenly appeared, accosted the trio before an argument could erupt.  
“There you are! I have been looking all over for you three.” She beckoned over a photographer, “ A picture for the wall and for the Atlas Times.” Taking the plate from Khenet, who comically skewered another piece of sushi, she inquired, “Where are your coaches?”

From behind her tripod the photographer gestured for them to stand closer together. Khenet’s coach gulped his wine, to stand rather unsteadily behind his charge in his light blue sash that clashed with the colours of his garments. Cassandra’s mother, stunningly beautiful and statuesque, took place beside her daughter, fretting over the gold chains that dangled from her daughter’s head dress. Winter took the middle, brandishing the large shield in front that threatened to swamp her. Plastering a fake smile on her face she tried not to think about Violet, how proud she would be, how she deserved to be up here having worked just as hard. 

“Where is your coach, Miss Schnee?”

Her father’s voice came like a knife down her spine, as he stood behind her,

“Unfortunately, Miz Hildebrand had a rather important prior engagement to attend to.”

The Vacouan instructor muttered,

“What, more important than seeing her first champion crowned?”

Winter tried to stay erect expecting heavy hands to rest on her shoulders. Instead a warm arm pulled her into a hug and Cassandra pulled a goofy face. Khenet burst into laughter and the photographer began clicking away, the flashes flickering in quick succession as the trio took their pose. Cassandra planted a kiss on Winter’s cheek and not to be out done, Khenet placed one on the other. 

"Hold it there for a moment, just let me get my scroll."

The three of them held it as the photographer clicked away. A chorus of awws and the flutter of applause at the display of sportsmanship, rippled through the small gathering of those that witnessed the intimate moment. 

Satisfied, the photographer began to search through the images. Selecting one, she showed it to them. 

" What are your handles so I can swat you?" Khenet and Cassandra gave their personal handles."And you, Miss Schnee?"

"@SDC_International." 

“And for the Atlas Times, is there anything you want to say?”

Determined that her father could not make good on his threat to ostracize the woman she held so dear, Winter mustered her courage, 

“Yes…. I want it said, ‘I could not have done this without my coach, Violet Hildebrand,” She peered over the photographer’s shoulder, making sure she was getting everything done word for word. “- And an intrinsic part of who I have become, she taught me strength and perseverance. It is after careful consideration that, Violet, my Father and I have come to the decision that I am to retire from fencing in this capacity and progress to the Combat Sabre, and I hope to be ready as soon as the President of the Commission sees fit as to give me the all clear. It is due to this mutually agreed upon decision that we have sorrowfully parted ways. Thankyou.”

At her words, Cassandra’s green eyes widened and her grip on Winter’s waist became painfully tight, 

“By the Brothers, Schneester, he’s going to kill you.”

“Probably.. But at least it shall be for a good reason, rather than crashing a yacht.”

Casting her eyes over the small gathering as her words began to ripple through, she spied her father attempting to smile and nod as various people congratulated him on such forward thinking. 

“Yes, yes.. My daughter takes after her Grandfather. He was also a famed Combat Sabreist. Was a World Champion, I believe.”

His dyed white mustache twitched at the left hand corner, as he held out his glass to be refilled. Never taking his eyes off his daughter, he began to approach. For a moment, Winter went to take a step back, thankful that Cassandra’s arm remained as the red head called out, 

“Daddy!”

A short stocky man with a barrel chest and heavy muscular arms that looked as if they were ready to burst out of the seams of his Atleasian style shirt strolled over with an a swagger that belied his small size. 

“Pumpkin!” He exuberantly bellowed, encasing both girls in a bone crushing hug. “So proud of both of you.”

For a split second Winter was afraid to exhale in case it was the last lungful of oxygen she would ever suck into her lungs. The man let go giving both girls a gentle pat on the back with his Ursa sized hands. Cassandra still cuddled him close round the middle and Winter could not control the small flash of jealousy at the affection that she would never receive from her own.

Auber Nikos turned, held up his flute that looked so tiny in his rather large hand. 

“Gele! A toast to the victors of today!” 

“Nikos,” Jacques tone came out clipped, ignoring the proposed toast, “I go by the name of Schnee now.”

“Oh .. yes.. How could I forget,” The russet haired man’s green eyes twinkled with mirth from out from under his bushy eyebrows as he leaned down to Winter like a conspirator, “We used to pal around at boarding school together.”

Listening intently as Auber Nikos began to regale the group with stories about the high jinks they would all get up to as young boys, much to her Father’s chagrin, Winter began to wonder if that was the reason by he was so adamantly refused to allow her to attend such a place. Finishing off a tale about scaring the daylights out of a young Jacques with a fake Grimm costume that had caused him to run screaming like a little girl through the dormitory, much to the amusement of everyone in attendance, Auber’ s shoulders shook with mirth. 

“My eldest boy couldn’t wait to go.”

Jacques added, dryly,

“Yes, a place that prized brawn over brains, if I recall.” 

If Auber Nikos heard the snide insult, he didn’t outwardly show it, instead he let out a booming laugh, causing most of the people in the room to look in their direction.

“How are your brothers? Perry and Gunther, right?”

“Gunther took over the family business as was expected.”

“Grapes wasn’t it?” 

“A vineyard!” Her father corrected. 

Khenet butted in, 

“It’s still just grapes though isn’t it?” He gave Winter a cheeky wink as he stuffed a truffle vol-au-vant in his mouth, Winter swallowed a smirk that threatened to spread across her face as her father bristled. Khenet spoke with his mouth full of pastry, making the motions with his sandals, “I ..erd … hoo squiv…em.. wiv. Bare . feeet?”

Jacques glared daggers at the young boy. Mrs Nikos diplomatically cut in,

“We saw Pierre recently.”

As Mrs Nikos gushed about her uncle, Winter watched her father’s knuckles take on a hint of white as he gripped his drink. They hadn’t seen their uncle Pierre in years as preferring the company of men, her father had taken great pains to create a distance between him and the family name in case it tainted it somehow. 

“It must be something to have such an accomplished ballet dancer at your disposal?” 

Taking a controlled sip of his drink, Jacques replied,

“Quite… Unfortunately, as you can see, Winter doesn’t quite have the stature for it, her sister, Weiss on the other hand is coming along exceptionally well.”

The insult cut to the core. It wasn’t her fault that her physique had taken after her mother rather than her father’s. 

“I never had the aptitude for it.” Winter spoke in her defence, “I much prefer horse riding and gymnastics anyways. Both instill and encourage a great sense of balance and low centre of gravity perfect for fencing.”

Mrs Nikos gave the young girl a pitiful look as Auber said,

“Oh I don’t know, what was it you said Cassie?”

Hugging Winter to her, the teenager replied,

“She is so small and nimble I wasn’t able to land a hit on her.”

Mrs Nikos leaned closer to the teenagers, 

"You must come down to the ranch some time, we have a fine herd of Abrixions and we are always looking for talented riders. It takes a certain..... determination ... to ride them. They are notoriously difficult to master but in the right hands they are a pleasurable and thrilling ride. Cassandra would only love for you to come visit."

Before Jacques could reply they were interrupted by a boisterous shout,

“If it isn’t my old master!” The Senior World Champion, decked out in full Military dress regalia with a medal pinned to his breast, clapped the Vacuoan coach on the back, “- I see you’re still milling about.” He nodded at Khenet, “-Well done, lad. I hope your keeping him on his toes?”

Clasping the towering young man in a hug, the coach grinned, 

“Blue, my boy, I see the military suits you well. The last time I saw you, you were a pigeon chested runt.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would never have been a champion in the first place,” Blue parted, “Stick with him lad. I was absolute fodder before he got a hold of me.”

“Excuse me, Mister.” A timid voice asked, “Are you a Huntsman?”

Blue looked round to find the source of the question. Cassandra ushered a shy, miniature carbon copy of herself forward. Wide green eyes looked up at the Huntsman in awe. 

“Well…” He paused, 

“Pyrrha.” Cassandra gushed, 

Grinning, he continued, 

“In the military we refer to ourselves as Specialists. But yeah, I am a Huntsman.”

Pyrrha, emboldened, took a tiny step forward,

“Is that what you use to hunt the monsters?”

Resting a gloved hand on the pommel of his sword at his hip, he gave a nod, 

“Would you like to see?”

Pyrrha began to vibrate with excitement. 

“Ok..” He held out a hand, “Stand back. Wouldn’t want it to mistake you for a Grimm, now would we?” 

In amusement at his display for the benefit of the little girl, the teenagers created a bit of space. Satisfied they were at a safe distance Blue unsheathed his sword with a flourish. Light running along the steel’s polished surface it gleamed as he turned it slightly to show off the razor sharp edge. It looked to Winter like a living thing and she could imagine it calling out, itching to be used and vanquish it foes. 

Even Khenet couldn’t hide his admiration of the blade as his ears gave him away, swivelling and twitching, though he tried to look disinterested and unimpressed. Winter internally scoffed at her friend's display as green eyes never left the handsome soldier’s face, hanging on his every word, 

Could she be anymore blatant? 

“This ..” The Specialist began to explain, pointing at a barrel beautifully crafted to be hidden and protected behind the coquille, “- is where the dust cartridges go..” He gave the empty barrel an experimental flick. It clicked as it smoothly spun in the wheel house. With a gloved finger he pointed to a slight groove that ran the whole length of the steel. “- The dust travels down along here to the tip… and when I’m ready .. I slice!” He turned, pointing it away from the youngsters before giving a demonstration… “Then BOOOOMPHHCHCH!.. the monster explodes!”

Pyrrha stared up at him with rapt attention as he sheathed his sword, 

“Do you want to be a Huntress?”

Barely able to contain her enthusiasm, Pyrrha nodded enthusiastically. 

“I want to go to Beacon or Haven like Cassie.”

“You’re going to Haven? “

At suddenly being the sole focus of his attention a blush crept across Cassandra’s cheeks and she nervously plucked at her nails,  
“I haven’t decided which yet, but I’ve put myself forward for an early admission.”

“Can’t sway you to join Atlas, no?” With doe eyes, Cassandra shook her head, “And you?”

Khenet scowled, 

“I’ll stick to Shade, if its all the same by you?”

Blue laughed off the boy’s sullen demeanour, 

“It pays for a young man to know his own mind.”

Grousing, the Vacouan instructor plucked a sandwich of a platter on a nearby table,

“Why is it all my best students leave to go to all those infernal academies? Just for once I’d like one to stick around!”

Sticking out his chest and standing at military ease, Blue proudly announced,

“When duty calls, one must answer.”

Resting a firm hand on Winter’s shoulder, her father smoothly interjected, 

“My daughter knows all about duty as she’ll be taking a position at the SDC once her education is complete. Huntsman and Huntresses, it’s a noble cause to be sure. Its keeps our borders safe, but it is hardly a profession befitting a young lady. This swords play is merely a hobby for her.”

As a body guard whispered something in her father’s ear, Winter could feel their eyes on her making her ears burn. She willfully returned their gaze. Jacques addressed the group,

“Everybody, I bid you good evening. We must be going if we want the airship to take off before the storm hits. Come along Winter.”

Her father set off across the room with long strides, his body guards clearing a path as if he was some great king and they his subjects. Winter politely shook hands with everyone, catching Cassandra silently motion, ‘call me.’ As she began following her father the teenager heard just on the cusp of earshot, Mr and Mrs Nikos,

“What a horrible man….Can you believe he said that about his own daughter, and in front of her?”

“Yeah, I'm not surprised. He always was a nasty piece of work... There was a reason why we left him dusted to a flag pole." 

“That poor girl. .. Cassie darling, make sure you keep in touch with her. "


	6. An Unspoken Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWriMo. 
> 
> A shout out to @winterschnee-frozenelegance for the 'lavender swing' hc
> 
> Winter returns to the Schnee Estate.. 
> 
> WARNING : PHYSICAL PARENTAL VIOLENCE. 
> 
> This is a bit of a dark chapter, (which I dug deep for) However, that being said. It ends on a good note.
> 
>  
> 
> Due to this I shall be changing the tag.

Since their take off in Argus, an oppressive silence had descended in the small cabin of the private airship. Across from her, Jacques poured over reports, growling and muttering under his moustache. 

Profits were down and the stocks of the SDC were suffering. 

Polls taken on the CCT were indicating a huge drop in popularity and a rising sympathy towards the faunus. 

Occasionally, he would make a call, demanding down the scroll why R&D were taking so long with various products he wanted on the market, just something, anything that could be used as a way to deflect from the mine debacle and that damn journalists poisonous words. 

He would rub his temples and take a sip of yet another drink before launching into a tirade about being held hostage by social justice warriors who had no idea how business worked. How they ought to be grateful that the dust HE produced was being used to keep them all safe in their beds at night.   
Were there casualties? Of course there was. Accidents happened all the time and the SDC could hardly be held responsible. Did she know this? This is what her future would hold. 

It was no easy feat, single handed keeping the company afloat. And the blasted White Fang. Hoodlums, Ruffians, Murderers and Thieves masked as protesters. 

They were Terrorists.

Another call would come through breaking his spiel and giving her some respite. 

Breaking cloud cover, the airship banked giving Winter the view of the twinkling and inviting lights of the landing strip below, guiding them home. A little ways off, in stark comparison, the families stately mansion was ablaze with spot lights, looking almost garish against the back drop of picturesque snow capped mountain tops and silver glacier lake. 

In her pocket, Winter’s scroll pinged. A message from Cassandra winking in the top corner. Casting a look in her father’s direction who was still deep in conversation, she opened it. 

It contained a few pictures they had taken at the tournament, and a link to Cassandra’s Grimmstagram account. Curiously, she clicked it. It brought her a swat by the Atlas Times, showing the picture of Cassandra and Khenet kissing her cheeks, with a crafted story about the event. Winter’s statement about Violet was in quotations and italics, standing in out bold in comparison to the rest of the letters on the screen. In less than 10 minutes it had over a million likes, views and re-swats, the counter in the bottom corner constantly climbing. 

The comments underneath ranged from:

“STAGED!”

"Wow! PR stunt."

" HOW LOW CAN YOU GO, SCHNEE!"

“Maybe the future of the SDC isn’t all doom and gloom.”

“Bet Daddy ain’t too pleased his Princess turned out to be a furry.”

Some continued to spew vitriolic hate, from both sides of the spectrum. Others came to her defense, telling them to leave a 15 year old child alone. There were swats of support. Ralph Adel had liked and shared. 

Lisa Lavender had re-swatted it with her own announcement, ‘Tonight here at VBC @10, join me and the panel where we shall be discussing What is the Future of the SDC and can it survive?’

Another photograph on a gossip website of Winter and Khenet looking cosy against the wall. 

Taken completely out of context, it made wild speculation at the nature of their relationship.

What had she been thinking? 

Quickly she canceled out the CCT,, stuffing her scroll back in her pocket and avoided looking at her father as the airship lightly kissed the asphalt. As the steps came down, her father canceled the call, alighting down the steps in his loping gait. 

They made it just through the doors into the greeting porch before his scroll began to explode in beeps and buzzes. As he began to thumb through the messages, his face became a thunderstorm. With an unexpected burst of speed, his arm snaked out catching Winter by the upper arm as he continued to read, fingers digging painfully into soft flesh.

He began dragging her through the hallways of the cavernous mansion towards his office, the teenagers feet scrabbling to find purchase on the polished marble floors. Servants and maids avoiding her gaze as he roared, 

“So you think you are ready to make statements on behalf of the SDC, do you? I will show you what it means to go off and make decisions without my permission.”

“But.. But I didn’t!”

“You gave them the company handle….. That is speaking on behalf of the SDC. And cosying up to the faunus boy for all the world to see…..”

“ It is not what it looks like… Father.. You’re hurting me!” She cried trying to twist out of his steely, unforgiving grip. His extra added height had it held at an eye watering angle, she tried to pull back only for him to yank it up harder.

He held on tight as he unlocked the heavy door to his office, out of the corner of her eye Winter saw a maid peer round one of the many columns that lined the wide hallway at intervals before scurrying in the opposite direction. Savagely Jacques tossed her into the room. The bravado she had found at the tournament left her replaced with trembling limbs. He stripped off his suit jacket, taking time and care to hang it on its hanger before placing it on the door hook. Rubbing her sore arm, nothing could quell the rising tide, as she watched him un-cuff his sleeves and roll them up. He pressed a button on a remote control activating a large screen.

“Give me your scroll!” Creeping forward, with her head turtled in her shoulders she dutifully slid it on to the gargantuan purple heartwood desk. He yelled, “Stand up straight, when I am talking to you!”

She instinctively stood to attention, her arm screaming in protest as she tried to hold her hands behind her back. 

Pacing back and forth as the screen began to load, he continued,

“Every choice you make reflects upon this family and the company. You will learn that your actions have consequences, young lady.”

He scrolled until he found the itinerary file. He clicked on Winter’s name. The schedule for her next year filled the screen. Every minute of every day meticulously planned out. 

“ So,- you think you are ready to become a PR tool for the company. Then so be it!” He barked, “You want to learn the Combat Sabre? From now on your sole purpose will be to become the best Remnant has ever seen. . You will break every record that has ever been set. … You, will surpass your Grandfather, your Mother… and in order to do so I gather you will have to train every hour the Brothers send… Wont you? ……. So, the skiing trip with your mother in two weeks, I guess you wont have time for that. - ” He deleted it from the screen, “ - And the trip to visit your grandmother. Gone! - ” Click. He turned to address her, “ - Showjumping season should be starting soon, shouldn't it?” She gave a weak nod, “Canceled!” 

Horse riding was the only respite she found, far from his prying eyes and household spies. Taking long hacks through the countryside of the estate, It was the only quality time alone she had with her mother.

“Please....Sir..!” She begged, with a small sob. “Not that..”

The hand with the remote still clutched in it lashed out connecting with the side of her face and catching her off guard. She reeled, only just managing to reach out a hand to a nearby armchair in a bid to stop herself from tipping over on to the floor.

Spittle flying from his lips, he bellowed,

“Don’t you ever talk back to me, you ungrateful little..” 

Winter held up her forearm to shield herself as he raised his arm back to lay down another blow. 

A polite cough could be heard. Jacques Schnee rounded on the person who dare step into his domain,

“WHAT!?”

From her place she could make out Klein, their head butler standing beside the office door, his shocked eyes briefly flickered between the cowering teenager and her father standing over her. 

“I am so sorry to interrupt Sir, but the photographer for the family portrait is on the line wishing to confirm that the appointment the day after tomorrow still stands?”

“Get out of my sight!” Her father snarled at her. 

Winter scrabbled to stand upright, her cheek throbbing and her arm in agony, she bit back the tears. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Fleeing through the door, she heard her father’s cool calm voice. 

“Yes, the family portrait. Confirm it. Oh and Klein, cancel the showjumping instructor. We wont be needing his services after all.” 

\---x---x----x 

Crashing through the door of her bedroom, she crossed the vast space flinging herself on the bed in huge sobs. Grabbing an overly large stuffed teddy bear, she hugged it to her stomach and chest, heaving into it burying her loud cries within it stuffing. Her nose blocked and saliva dripping from her mouth she let out howling cries, wishing, begging it to take her grief. 

A timid knock rapped off the door, a slither of light broke the gloom as it cracked open a little, 

“Winter….” came a hesitant, small and soft enquiry, “.. can we come in?”

“What do you want, Weiss?” She snarled, instantly regretting it as the gap in the door became smaller from someone clutching the doorknob flinching. Leaning on her good elbow, Winter wiped her snotty nose on the back of her hand, trying to steady her voice, “… I’m sorry.. Im sorry.” The teenager rolled off the bed, her tone much softer and kinder that belied the hurt, “Come in and sit on the bed… ” Dressed in her Sunday best, the twiggy little girl entered the room with her baby brother, Whitely, toddling close behind, “Give me a few minutes ok?” Hiding her face, Winter flicked on the bedroom light before slipping into her en-suite bathroom. Unable to stop being an older sibling, she popped the door slightly ajar, calling out. “ And don’t touch anything..” 

“Yes Winnie.”

Unable to find the energy to care about the annoying nickname, she instead ran the cold tap. Holding the terrycloth under the freezing cold water, thanks to the spring high up in the mountains that was directly piped to the house, Winter examined her face in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and blotchy, her nose still snotty and on the right hand side a welt was beginning to blossom on the apple of her cheek bone and seeping up into the lower part of her eye socket.   
There came a gentle tap at the door. Biting back her frustration, she tried to calmly reply, her voice strained, 

“Just.. a ..second.” She muttered, “For brothers sake.”

“It is only me, Miss Winter.”

“Klein?”

“Yes…… Can I come in?”

Using her heel, she nudged the door open in reply. Squeezing through the gap, the small man gave a twitch of his walrus mustache, his eyes combing over her face in concern. Taking her hand, he guided her to the toilet, putting down the seat and giving it a pat. Miserably, Winter sank onto it,

“He fired Violet.”

Taking her chin in his soft and gentle hands, the man who had practically raised her tipped her face towards the light to get a better look at her injury.   
“I know, she called……….Here, put this on.” He pressed a warm and pleasant smelling cloth to her cheek. Wincing, she recoiled, sucking in a breath through her teeth. He assured her “It will take down the swelling.”

Klein had been there through every step of the way. He had apparently been her grandfather’s servant, having worked his way up from a bootboy to an usher. Just before her grandfather had passed he had been promoted to head butler with an ironclad contract that as long as he didn’t break the cardinal rules he was employed to the Schnee family for life or until he decided to take retirement. Klein had patched up every bump every bruise. He had carried her sister from the bottom of the garden when the old lavender swing their Opa used to push them on had finally given way to rot, resulting in Weiss with a broken collarbone and Winter a right scolding. He had calmly stitched Winter’s forearm when she had sliced it open climbing up into the hay loft. As she had tried to be brave, sucking in her bottom lip as her mother stroked her hair, telling her what a good little Huntress she was being. 

When she had been deemed too old for a nanny and her parents had been off at some fancy ball or dinner, Klein had been the one to read to her until she fell asleep, her favourite fairy tale being ‘The Girl in the Tower.’ 

“He canceled my riding lessons!”

“I wont do anything of the sort until I speak to the Mistress.” Handing her the cloth, he disappeared back into the bedroom, only to return with a rather plain carrier bag. “-I got what you asked for…. I think the little Miss will be right pleased.”  
Winter gave him a wane smile, 

“You think so?”

“I do…. Come now, “ He gently coaxed, “- The pair of them have been itching to see you all day… Weiss even picked out her favourite dress for you..” Winter gave a watery sniff as once again tears threatened to spill… “When you’re ready, of course.”

Once again he left her alone. Hooking her finger through the handle, she pulled open the plastic bag. Inside there was a sleek looking box, with the fancy and intricate logo of House Adel embossed into the wood and an envelope. 

Fishing out the envelope, she teased the card from within its depths. Written in hand inked calligraphy, 

“ Weiss, 

In the darkest of shadows, the brightest of lights is the love from one sister to another.

Love Winter,”

Maybe a little too old for the young girl but one day, hopefully, in the future she would come to understand them. The words reignited something deep. She would become the best, if that is what it took. Something for Weiss and Whitely to look up to. Something for them to see that they could shine out from under the shadow of the SDC. She would find a way and show them.

With great care so as not to crease, she slid the card back in to its snug guard and retrieved the box.

Entering her bedroom she was barreled into by her sister hugging her round the middle and Whitely hanging on to her legs. She tried not to laugh as the pair of them made it difficult to across the expanse over to the dresser as the two youngsters babbled about their day.

Weiss had managed to hit a high note. Whitely had found a snail. Mommy had taken them riding in the carriage. Whitely had sat on his first pony but thought they were smelly. He liked wearing the ‘white breechs’… Winter laughed as the pair had a petty squabble about the proper name for the ‘white breeches’, Weiss informing him that they were called Jodphurs and what Winter used for fencing were called ‘breeches’…Cook had given them sugar mice. An Uncle Perry had sent Weiss really pretty ballet slippers that were a little big. Mommy had watched Winter’s bout on the CCT. Was the Faunus boy as scary as he looked?

Klein came to her rescue at the barrage of questions, gathering little Whitley in his arms, setting him to his hip, the little boy’s pale skinny legs dangling down.

“No, the faunus boy, his name is Khenet and he was very nice.-” Winter patted the poof seat in front of her mirrored boudoir. “ He is from Vacou.”

“Vacou is full of garbage people.” Weiss stated knowingly, as she slipped on to the poof as primly as she could, “Daddy says that every one there is a criminal!” 

“Garbage! Garbage!” Whitely began chanting, kicking his little legs, his highly polished and sturdy shoes banging against the butler who tried not to wince.

Stepping behind her sister, Winter began to comb her fine white silky hair, 

“Well.. Father is wrong.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Whitely let out, “I’m going to tell Daddy.”

Bouncing the little boy on his hip, Klein became comically menacing, 

“You know what happens to tattle tales, young man?” Wide eyed, Whitely shook his head. “Every time you tell a tall tale… You turn into a Grimm..-” He tickled and softly poked the little boy, punctuating every word, “Bit… By … BIT!” 

A a brief moment, Whitely looked trapped in between excitement and terror. 

“What if I turn into a Nevermore?”

Klein held him aloft, 

“Then you shall FLY!” 

The young boy let out little shrieks of delight as he held out his arms pretending to flap them as Klein swooped him up and down in the room in encouragement. In the reflection of the mirror, Winter caught Weiss watching the display in longing as she continued to comb.

“Your hair is getting awfully long.. I think we should try something new with it.” Light blue eyes swiveled back to find her older sister’s. Drawing her hair up in two springy pigtails, Winter lightly teased “How about this?”

“Noooooo, Winter!” Weiss set her cocked her head, pridefully sticking out her chin, “I am ten! And far too mature now!”

Winter continued to tease, 

“Ten! And a mature lady?” Sweeping her sister’s hair to the side, she worked out all the bumps, pulling it back into a high ponytail. “ What about now?” 

Weiss beamed but suddenly gave way to pouting 

“But I don’t have anything to hold it up with.”

With Whitely safely nestled back on his hip, Klein observed as Winter handed the small girl the lacquered box and card. With barely concealed excitement, Weiss turned her attentions to the fancy box. She looked up at Winter for permission, who inclined her head. Slender fingers searched along the outside until they found the secret button causing spring loaded lid to pop open. A tiny miniature version of Weiss in a ballet tutu spun around and a melody began to play. Nestled in the finest of silk sat a silver tiara of sorts, the craftsmanship exuded from each delicate silver tendril, giving the impression that it had been spun by a spider. At the end of each point a jewel sat. In the middle tiny teeth that would give it grip and the most minuscule chain that could be used to tighten it round anything that was expected. With great reverence , Weiss teased it from its snug encasing, proudly holding it up to the light. 

It sparkled, reflecting the wide light blue eyes of the girl. 

“Happy Birthday, Weiss.”

Wriggling in Klein’s arms, Whitely began to fuss, 

“I want a present.. “

Opening the drawer of her boudoir, Winter took out a small package,

“I did not forget about you.”

The little boy reached for it and with Klein’s help he tore its from the package, unfazed as the sellotape stuck to his fingers. He gurgled with happiness as he held out the figure,

“Look Opa, a knight!” Winter caught the twitch of the butler’s mustache at the affectionate term. “He’s the King that will bash the Grimm.. Hes gonna save the princess.”

Klein began walking round the room as Whitely began telling him of the adventures his knight would surely go on, pulling faces of shock and awe at the little boys every word.

Turning her attentions back to her sister, who had teased the card from its envelope, 

“Would you like me to put it on?” Weiss nodded. Once more taking her place, Winter began to carefully comb her sister’s hair to one side, taking great pains to gently tease out the bumps. She watched as Weiss mouthed the words of the card. “Try to stay still.” 

Winter teased Weiss’ hair through the beautiful piece, setting the teeth and drawing it back untill it fit snug around the slightly off kilter ponytail. Standing back, she watched as Weiss tilted her head admiring her reflection. 

The young girl’s face split with an ear to ear grin. Suddenly diving off the poof, Weiss engulfed her in a round the waist hug. 

“I love it! Thankyou Winter!”

Winter hugged her baby sister close. 

Service bells through out the house began to tinkle and the blue light on her bedroom wall flashed announcing that dinner would commence in fifteen minutes sharp. Klein flashed her a grin, 

“Better take the young master down and you, Miss Winter, need to get changed.”

Reluctantly she let go of the warmth around her middle. Weiss skipped across the vast space. Pausing at the door, the little girl quietly uttered, 

“I love you too.”

With a little toss of her head, she was gone.


	7. A Fondant Charade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry took so long to update. Very busy week. 
> 
> Teenage Winter Fic. 
> 
> NaNoWriMo. 15/11/18
> 
> Its freaking cold and I cant feel my fingers or my feet. Wanted to get this uploaded as Ill be away from my computer for the next few days ( Fantastic Beasts 2 and my birthday celebrations... Hopefully they will be much better than Weiss')
> 
> I shall edit from my phone.. 
> 
> Enjoy and please leave kudos or a comment if you liked it. 
> 
> Thanks.

Part 7 

In the cavernous dining room, dominated by a long cherry wood dining table, Winter and her siblings stood obediently and silent by their respective seats, waiting for their parents to arrive. Within the gargantuan intricately carved fireplace, the fire crackled. Even with its large size it failed to heat the vast space. 

Light from mixture of dust infused candles and the fireplace twinkled off the silverware and place settings dotted along the surface of the luxurious, gleaming wood, casting the far corners in gloom. At intervals, serving staff stood to attention, barely visible in depths of the shadows where the mood lighting could not reach, helped by their carefully chosen blue and grey uniforms created specifically to conceal them from their Master’s eyes.

Winter’s gaze landed on the hideous artwork her Father had chosen to replace what had once been a beautiful oil painting of the Schnee family, depicting her grandfather, mother, grandmother and uncle in their younger days. 

The doors on the left suddenly opened allowing in a bright shaft of light that caused the silverware to glitter and wink briefly before her father entered, casting his shadow, long and looming across the table’s surface. Opposite her, Weiss stood to stiff attention and little Whitley’s hair, stark white in contrast to the dark accents of the furnishings, was just visible over the lip of the table’s edge. 

Winter tried to remain focused on the garish painting. It was said to depict some great conquest during the Great War, but if you looked closely enough you could make out the slight Faunus traits of the slaughtered and the subtle likeness of their father upon the features of the victorious leader. 

The sound of a wooden chair being scrapped back across the polished floorboards indicated that he had taken his place at the head of the table. Each child remained as if a statue carved from granite, knowing the reprimand that they would face if they were to break the rigorously enforced etiquette expected of their status. 

Her little sister began to crinkle her nose, bobbing up and down like an Atleasian marchhare. She moved as is to scratch it, pausing when she caught Winter’s barely detectable shake of her head. The teenager felt his critical gaze lingering before he cast it upon Weiss. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, checking his silver pocket watch. 

“Where is she?”

A servant hesitantly offered, 

“Mistress Willow was in the East Wing, Sir.”

Whitely began to fidget.

The businessman's moustache twitched with a sickle of dissatisfaction. 

“She is aware….”

Suddenly their mother swept open the double doors behind their father, a waft of lillies proceeding her.

“Sorry, darlings.” 

Dressed in a gown of whites and light blues, she swept into the room walking with a grace very few naturally possessed or could perfect. Approaching Winter, she gently touched her shoulder, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss upon the teenager’s cheek, causing her to flinch as soft lips faintly pressed against her injury. Pulling back, her mother tenderly examined her face, her grey eyes alighting on her cheek, 

“Darling, what happened to your face?”

Having no wish to mar Weiss’ special day by causing an argument, Winter avoided her gaze,

“I was careless during training.”

This close, Winter witnessed the miniscule steely flicker of a glance in the direction of Jacques before coming back to rest on her. Without a hint of reproach, her mother parted, 

“You must wear your mask at all times, Darling.”

Registering the loaded meaning, Winter gave a weak nod, belying the urge to seek out the comfort she so greatly wished for.  
Over at the far side of the table the little boy began to fuss. Willow gave him a smile, gesturing for them to sit. Whitley, too small to make it onto the booster seat looked around, holding out his arms to his mother only for a servant to swoop in and situate the little boy. In a bid to hide her disappointment, Willow announced, 

“Winter, I think that moving onto the Sabre is a marvellous idea, keeping Father’s legacy alive. Your Opa would be proud, as am I-” Winter and Weiss both took their seats sparking the various servants to quickly come to life as their mother continued, “- I believe that with this progression, you shall be in need of a new instructor.-” 

A waiter began to move about the room, decanting clear crisp water into everyone's glasses. From his vantage point, Jacques held out his whiskey tumbler, 

“Yes… I “

“All the necessary arrangements have been made.” Taking a sip of her water, Willow motioned for the wine to be decanted. “I think you will find him to your liking..” 

“Who?” Her father growled. 

Winter observed as her father fixed Willow with a glare. If her mother noticed, she ignored it as satisfied with her beverage, she waved away the servant. 

“He is an old pupil of my father’s and a champion in his own right. …” She took a moderate sip of her wine.”- We were lucky to get him as it would seem that he is in high demand.” She turned her attentions to her youngest daughter. “- Weiss, sweetheart, which menu did you decide upon.”

The little girl opened her mouth as if to speak only to be cut off by her father with a steely tone,

“You know I don’t like it when I am not consulted.”

“I think in this particular for instance I am far more qualified than you.”

The servants and wait staff began to enter the room in an endless stream, arms laden with dishes from which wafted delicious smells that caused Winter’s stomach to rumble. Made from ingredients from the far flung corners of Remnant, no expense had been spared, as the opulent and beautifully crafted dishes were slowly revealed. Weiss and Whitley’s eyes sparkled at the artistic creations. Jacques ignored the serving staff, 

“Still-” Never taking his eyes off his wife, he shook out his napkin, tucking it into his shirt collar, “- I wish to be consulted.”

Willow elegantly teased her own napkin from its silver holder, demurely placing it on her lap as was correct etiquette in their circles. 

“The opportunity didn’t arise.”

Taking the cue from their mother the two girls copied her whilst Whitley was helped by a member of the serving staff. Plucking fresh tomatoes still on the vine, Jacques added peevishly,

“A scroll call wouldn’t have been remiss.” 

Willow gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she selected olives from a nearby dish, 

“Well, you are always telling me how busy you are, and quite frankly I felt it would be of no concern to you.”

A muscle began to work in Jacques jaw and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Winter steeled herself for the barrage, focusing on a particular whorl in the cherry wood.

Her father would whittle away, passing snide remarks until their mother would retreat to the sun lounge in the East Wing, but recently their embittered squabbling had begun to take a turn for the worse, frequently devolving into full blown screaming arguments.

Could they not for one day leave it at the door, for Weiss’ sake?

“Miss?” She looked up at the server in his pristine uniform and stark white gloves, that Winter could only assume served the purpose to make his jobs more difficult, waiting expectantly, “Starter?”

“What would you suggest?”

“The bisque, Miss. It comes from the finest ingredients from the seas at the southernmost tip of Vale. I believe it is Miss Weiss’ favourite.”

Looking at her sister, who vibrated, Winter gave the server a nod. She leaned back slightly as he began to ladle the thick liquid into a finebone Mistrali bowl, hating every action he took, how he used the silver tongs to select the soft white rolls, how he placed a small bowl of butter beside her.

She observed as Weiss and Whitley pointed at the rolls they wished for and waited patiently for their servers to prepare them.  
Every time it made her feel as if she was an invalid. He went as if to break the roll and spread butter on it. Winter stopped him, taking the roll from the tongs, 

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

Once done, the servers disappeared back into the shadows. Overwhelmingly oppressive silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of silverware against porcelain, the wood crackling in the hearth and the laborious ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner. Winter shivered against the coldness in the vast distance between her parents that no amount of heat could thaw. Her mother indicated for another glass of wine as her father finished his famed Mountain Glen whiskey.

Whitley happily humming to himself as Weiss primly placed her soup spoon to the side indicating that she had finished. Another round of servers cleared their dishes and the whole rig moral began again, as each person selected their main. Winter’s fork hovered over her grouse as she heard her mother begin, 

“I went to the office today.”

Without missing a beat, Jacques’ pink tongue flicked out to catch the pale flesh of veal that threatened to tip from his fork,  
“Is that so?” The meat continued on its journey around his mouth, it was as if witnessing a troughing Boartusk. “I was under the impression that you were with the other useless socialite housewives.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Willow paused to put down her silverware, “- When it was brought to my attention that you have called off the search for the missing miners.”

Her father continued to attack his meal with gusto, 

“As is company policy.”

“Then change it.”

“We have adhered to our legal obligation.”

Winter resumed moving the bright pink meat around her plate in a bid to avoid catching either of her parent’s eyes. Their bickering reminding the teenager of her fencing matches.

“It has only been the minimum of days, Jacques.”

The man stabbed a piece of asparagus,

“Well within regulation.. Besides, if anybody survived, which I highly doubt, they will more than likely be frozen to death.”

With her hands palm down on the table and leaning slightly forward, Willow appealed,

“Jacques, they are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, they have loved ones.” 

Jacques chewed on the green stalk,

“And they will be compensated handsomely.” 

Willow rose slightly from her seat, pushing her advantage,

“They don’t want our money. They want their loved ones returned to them.. If my father was alive he wouldn’t rest until every last one of them was brought to the surface, safe or not.”

Dropping the fork onto to the plate, her father peevishly spat,

“Well he isn’t, is he?”

Using the napkin, Jacques wiped his mouth and moustache. Crumpling it in his hands he tossed it harshly onto the table. Winter waited for the tell-tale excuses, the tired old rhetoric he would always spout when he lost face and was goaded into showing his true colours.

“Mama, Father, please!” Keeping her head bowed, Winter said, “It is Weiss’ birthday.”

Before she could incur her father’s wrath the doors opened. Proudly wheeling his creation in front of him, the specially employed cake chef entered. With a huge smile, he spoke in a heavy Valish accent, 

“Sir, Madam.” He bowed to Weiss, “My Lady.” Weiss beamed at the attention, “I have brought to you today, a work of art like no other.”

Carefully placing it on the table close to the birthday girl, he unveiled it with a flourish. 

No attention to detail had been spared. Over a tier and a half of fondant, was a beautifully crafted replica of the Atlas National Opera Stage. A delicately created Weiss stood centre stage, each member of the audience individually crafted. 10 candles were hidden within the fondant, their flames fluttering at the cusp of the dias and above the orchestra pit giving the impression of stage lights. In places the bare velvet cake had been used to give the impression of the luxurious material that hung from the private boxes. Whitley began to enthusiastically clap in delight as the chef took great care to point out to the young girl the miniature recreations of her family in their private box. 

“Mama, look!” 

Getting up from her seat, Willow began to examine the birthday cake in awe. Touching her hand to the red jewels at her neck, Willow returned the chef’s smile, 

“You have simply out done yourself… Thankyou” 

Even her father looked slightly impressed. For a moment, in the candle light, they could be mistaken for a happy family, coming together to celebrate. Willow graciously thanked the serving staff, indicating that they could leave. 

From the trolley, she retrieved small plates and a cake cutter. 

“It seems almost a shame to cut it, doesn’t it?”

Weiss enthusiastically nodded. 

Placing the utensils on the table and giving her youngest daughter a squeeze, she asked, 

“Winter, let’s get a photograph with your scroll.”

No sooner had the last servant closed the door, Jacques picked back up the argument,

“You do not know the lengths I have gone to keep this family afloat? The hard decisions that need to be made on a daily basis. Imagine the PR disaster, dead Humans with the faunus being brought to the surface. The press would have a field day."

“As opposed to leaving them in an icy grave?” 

Weiss face broke with a look of disappointment as their parents resumed their bickering. Fidgeting in her chair, the young girl was barely able to conceal her eagerness to blow out the candles before the dripping wax threatened to melt the carefully crafted fondant. Forgetting the birthday celebration, Willow pressed,

“If you won’t change the policy, then I shall.” 

Jacques lit a match, his lips wrapping around a thick cigar, 

“My dear, I think you may find that rather difficult.” His eyes became hooded in a bid to hide from the blue smoke that curled at the edges, “After the tragic demise of Russell by the White Fang terrorists ….” Satisfied it was lit, he watched the flames burn the wood down to the very last millimetre before he dunked it in his water glass, “-His Vote falls to the CEO of the SDC.”

“Yes me..”

Leisurely, the business man sat back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee, his highly polished black dress shoe in stark contrast with the pristine white of his suit. 

“No, You, my dear, are merely a figurehead.. I am the CEO, the vote falls to me.” He tapped the ash on the floor, “- Until a suitable candidate can be found.”

Drawing herself up to her full height, Willow took a step towards him,

“I will contest it. I will bring it up in front of the board.” 

With a smug grin, he gestured with his glass, the amber liquid threatening to spill over the rim,

“By all means, go ahead, but I think you will find that the board will not vote in favour of a socialite who prefers to remain cloistered behind her palace walls, who once referred to her duties as, what was it… ah yes, a burden.” 

A deep red came to Willow’s ivory cheeks,

“You know that was not what I meant.. That I chose to remain here to take care of the children....To take care of Father."

Taking a huge inhale, he seemed to hold it for a brief moment before thick tendrils of acrid smoke unfurled from his nose giving him the appearance of a dragon,

“ Yes.. It was honourable of you... A dutiful and doting daughter choosing to take care of her ailing Father. But I think you will find that the Board will put their trust in a man who has steered the company in the right direction for many years. In a man who has turned a profit every quarter even in these trying times.” 

Winter observed as her mother’s hands balled into fists, taking on an accusatory tone, 

“By cutting funding and putting employees lives in danger?” 

“Well, we are within industry regulations.”

“Regulations you have dictated by lobbying the Minister for Industry.” Her mother began to move towards the door with purpose, “I shall not put up with this. First thing in the morning I am invoking my right to call a meeting of the board.”

Ignoring her, he finished off his drink, 

“Don’t be ridiculous…. You shall continue on with your frivolous philanthropist duties on behalf of the SDC whilst I continue to take care of the business, guiding it in the right direction in these dark times,” His voice became viperous, “ -To ‘ensure’ the future of our children.”

Her mother stopped dead in her tracks. Winter flinched at the thinly veiled threat and Weiss’ head swivelled between her parents.  
Willow’s shoulders drooped as if with the weight of Atlas. Turning to look at her husband, her voice came out barely a whisper, 

“Did you ever love me?"

Jacques took another pull of the cigar as he coolly regarded his wife. Again he cadishly tapped the ash on the floor,

“If you have to ask, then I am sure you already know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it! In front of the children –“ Her voice became shrill. “-Say it!”

“If you insist…”

A deep silence that seemed to swell and distort the space rolled out. Winter dug her finger nails into the back of her hand. It seemed to suck in all the oxygen as the teenager struggled to gasp for air. Please no, not today. Weiss’ face became pinched, her tiny eyebrows furrowed in concern. Winter began,

“Father.. Please.. Don’t.”

Taking no heed of his daughter’s pleas, he instead remained focused on his wife. He took time as if savouring the moment making a big display of leaving the cigar on the edge of armrest, the corner of his lip twitched up as he coldly announced,   
“- I only married you for the company.”

The candles on the cake flickered and died.

Willow’s eyes flickered to each of her children, Winter watched as her mother seemed to recoil, her face crumbled and she fled  
Weiss bottom lip trembled… Whitley let out a loud wail.

Jacques spat.

“Oh for the sake of the gods.. Shut up with that infernal racket!

Bolting from her chair, Winter scooped up her little brother and held out her hand in encouragement.

“Weiss .”

The little girl scrambled from her seat, eagerly grasping her big sisters hand. 

Winter briefly paused in the doorway, watching as Jacques bit into a purple plum, the soft flesh breaking, spilling dark venous juices down his chin. 

He looked up. Holding his gaze, she stood back with Whitley on her hip and Weiss holding her hand. Activating a glyph on each handle she concentrated all of her rage. Under the sheer pressure, the doors began to shake and rattle in their hinges. 

“I hate you!”

Catching the brief flicker of surprise on his features, she let go. The force exerted was enough to slam the doors closed with a resounding boom and caused the solid timber to splinter in its frame.


	8. A Rogue Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereby Winter gets a surprise guest
> 
> Some of you were asking about the oc's or where this is going, if you are still curious I made a new blog. 
> 
> formerlyrunephoenix6769.tumblr
> 
> Feel free to like or comment.   
> #I would really like your feedback

A heavy blanket of mist had rolled down the mountain enveloping the vast Schnee estate, draping everything it touched in a thick layer of moisture. No sunlight twinkled off droplets, both absorbed by the dull grey that stretched as far as the eye could see. It had been weeks since the night of her Father’s bombshell and he had remained true to his word cancelling all of her up and coming engagements. 

Nestled in a deep window seat above the only working radiator in the room that gurgled and knocked, Winter stared out of the window into the foggy gloom, choosing to ignore the book in her lap and the droning of the tutor as he paced back and forth his scholarly robes flapping behind him. In the middle of the room at a small desk, Weiss listened intently absorbing his every word, her pen flying across the paper in loops and swirls as she eagerly committed every nugget of information to the page. Outside, the trees naked of plumage reached up their blacked limbs, twisted and gnarled, like hands reaching for the heavens grasping at the last vestiges of life. One large tree seemed to ripple, as black feathers ruffled and a thousand beady eyes watched and waited. 

A dark grey and black uniform passed in front of the window obscuring Winter’s view as they strolled back and forth along the promenade that ran around the mansion. She watched as one proceeded to wiggle his fingers in the granite fountain at the entrance to the path that would lead to the now half empty stable yard, his shouts causing the flock of birds to alight from their roost screeching and cawing at his rude intrusion. 

No subtlety had been given in the sudden rise in security at the Schnee homestead. A private security firm rather than the usual personnel from the SDC, these men and women looked battle hardened with a steely glint in their eyes and wore their weapons openly as they proceeded on their rounds. The strain of providing for the extra personnel had done nothing to improve Klein’s mood either, his grumpy persona coming more to the fore as he grumbled about the private contractors and their lack of regard for the household staff as they questioned and inspected everything going in and coming out of the stately home. 

Winter could only wonder at the exact nature of it as she had witnessed the stony faced sentinels skulking about the hallways of the entrances to the East Wing where their mother had been cloistered since the revelation. Even Jacques departure with Whitley, who he had taken to keeping close by his side, did nothing to rouse the Schnee matriarch from her solitude.

“Miss Schnee!” the tutor barked, cutting into her moment of reflection. “At what temperature does dust go from a solid to a liquid?” 

Winter returned his question with a blank stare.

Weiss sat on the edge of her seat, her hand waving in the air, her little chest puffed out to the point Winter was fully convinced she might take flight if not for the desk grounding her. Ignoring her sister, the tutor continued,

“I would think that as the Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, you would want to know this?”

Winter replied with a haughty tone,

“And I would think that as an esteemed tutor you would know that it is a trick question!” 

Weiss lowered her hand and watched her older sibling wide eyed. The tutor turned on his heel giving Winter his full attention as a wicked smirk twitched at the corner of his lips, 

“If you know so much, would you care to elaborate? I am sure your sister would love to hear what wisdom you have gleaned from your years of education.”

Rising to his petty challenge and bid to humiliate her, Winter returned the parry,

“Certainly- ” Leaving the cosy nest of the windowsill, Winter began to casually stroll about the room, “- Not all types of dust ‘boils’ or ‘melts’ at the same point. Dust, as is it collectively known, is actually a number of different types of minerals often found in individual clusters akin to its surroundings. - ” She trailed her fingers long the spines of the books on the nearby shelf “- Therefore, its stands to reason that dust with gravity defying properties, one of the rarest types might I add, will not react in the same way that dust with freezing properties shall. The SDC has refineries across the globe, each equipped with the capability to refine each dust type as its properties dictate.” She teased a book with the emblem of the family sigil embossed in its leather binding from its snug “- Furthermore, the SDC did not become the biggest dust extraction and refining company through sheer monopolisation but rather due to the Schnee name coming to mean excellence and the finest quality of products due to the purity of the dust crystals we provide. Monopolisation of the industry happened after the fact. Absorbtion of our lesser competitors and implementing the Schnee Dust Company’s refining process thereby improving the quality of dust available on Renmant as a whole was merely good business practices.” 

Bowing the board pointer in his hands, the tutor huffed. His features became pinched. As he opened his mouth to speak the large grandfather clock began to chime. Snapping the book closed, Winter returned it to its place before turning on her heel and leaving the room without another word. 

Ignoring the security guards, Winter began to make her way down the corridor that would lead back into the main house, stewing over her predicament. Where as once over her afternoons had been filled with Violet, training, or taking to the saddle now she was expected in the parlour practising the accursed cello, the same piece of music over and over until she could play it by ear. It was a strict instruction laid down by her Father, who expected her to play the piece for him without sheet music when he returned. 

How could she take up her mother’s plea to leave as soon as the opportunity arose if there was nothing she could do in the way of skills that could provide for her?

If it wasn’t for her brother being with him, she would wish the airship would explode with her father in it. At least that way all their problems would be solved. 

Behind her she could hear the soles of Weiss’ shoes slapping off the polished floor as she ran to catch up. From in her skinny arms books threatened to spill and the spindly child tried to hug them to her chest. 

“Winter.” came the whine, “Please, some help.”

Rolling her eyes, Winter plucked a few before they could cascade onto the floor. Casting a critical eye over the titles,

“What do you even need these for? Most of them are outdated.” She selected one. “Look at this one… Faunus Anatomy…” She flicked it open to a random page and began to read aloud, as Weiss scurried along side her, “- The Faunus are incapable of learning. Due to their physiology,….. Blah blah…. the ridges in their cranium suggest a smaller brain, much akin to an animal.” Winter trailed off before snapping it closed, “- Yeah, Weiss, I’m pretty certain this is just racist propaganda.”

With a sniff, Weiss tried to take a superior tone,

“Dr Gnarls Tarquin was a great Scientist who helped discover the evolution of Grimm!”

“He was also a crack pot who died due to inhaling dust and was married to his cousin! Nearly all of his other theories have been disproved.”

Weiss’ brow furrowed at her sister’s counter argument. Hugging her remaining books tight, she tried to match Winter’s gait. 

“We don’t have many books on the faunus.”

“And why are you trying to learn about the Faunus?”

“I want to know why they are different.”

“They’re not… Well, not really.”

“Why do they hate humans then? Why do they want to kill us?”

“They don’t!”

“They killed Uncle Russell and his family!”

Winter sighed, 

“That was a handful of very bad people who were trying to make a statement. I don’t think that all the Faunus are like the White Fang.”

After her Father’s outburst at the dinner table, Winter couldn’t even be sure if the White Fang were responsible anymore, instead she lay a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. 

“Come on, lets go see Klein and get some lunch.” Casting a sly glance behind her, she spotted the security tailing them at a distance, “- I know a short cut.”

Rounding the corner and out of sight of the guards the teenager picked up the pace encouraging her sister to keep up, she guided the young girl down the wide flowing staircase that led down into a wide entrance lobby. Doubling back round under the staircase and beside a suit of highly polished armour, Winter pressed a panel to reveal a small door cleverly hidden within the lattice work. 

She gestured for Weiss to follow. The small girl hesitated on the threshold. 

“I don’t know, Winter,” 

Weiss bit her bottom lip and scratched the back of her left calf with her right foot, a dead give away she was nervous. 

“Make up your mind, you boob, before those goons see us……” Winter beckoned again, “It’s quite safe .” Winter assured, “I come down here all the time, it leads down to the kitchens.”

Coming to a decision, Weiss ducked her head and stepped into the gloom, Winter followed easing the door back into its snug so as not to make a sound.

Winter held up her finger to her lips, the heavy footsteps of the guards on the staircase dislodging some of the accumulated dust causing it to rain down, peppering their white hair with grey. Both girls could hear the voices of the guards, 

“Where the Brothers did they go?” 

“I fucking hate this job!”

“Would you shut up!”

“I’m a solider not a glorified babysitter. This not what I signed up for!”

“ It’s a cushty gig. Great pay, bed and board and we don’t get shot at. What more do you want.”

“Dont get shot at? I’d much prefer knowing who the enemy is. The eldest one … I’ve seen that look before… You remember that Faunus village we cleared out, the exact same look…. And I wouldnt put it past the lush going off on one either. Mark my words, this house is gonna go to hell in a…”

The two girls let out the breath they had been holding as the guard’s voices faded out as they moved off. Winter took her sister’s hand, placing it on the back of her waistcoat. Making sure that Weiss had a firm grip she began leading her down the narrow winding pathway. 

Weiss whispered, 

“What is this? Who built it?”

Winter peered into the gloom, carefully feeling her way long the wall,

“Opa? I don’t know , maybe an ancestor was paranoid that the local peasants would rise up in revolt and slay them in their beds?”

With a small shaky voice, Weiss whined,

“Winter don’t say that. Father says the White Fang might do that any day now.”

A slight breeze caused errant cobwebs to sway, indicating they were going in the right direction as the pathway twisted and turned. They passed a turn off to the right that Winter knew would lead to a heavily barricaded entrance to the garden. She had yet to explore all the passageway’s off shoots. Feeling a slight change in heat, the teenager took the left opening, carefully placing her feet on each stone flag that made up the staircase that spiraled round and down as Weiss held on tight.

“Father is just trying to scare you. He wants us terrified so we wont do anything he disapproves of.” In a bid to alleviate her younger sibling’s fears, she explained, not unkindly, “- Our house is one of the most secure in Remnant. The White Fang wouldn’t make a move towards this house. We are so far in the tundra, there is no way a mass group of faunus would make it so far into the country without being detected. We would see them coming a mile away. ”

“But Father said..”

Winter pushed open the door that would lead into one of the official servants service corridors that were doted all over the house as she snapped in annoyance,

“Well Father is a liar!” 

“I would be careful saying that out loud, Miss Winter. The walls have ears.”

Both girls let out a shriek and dropped their books at the voice. Bending down to collect the books in a bid to hide her embarrassment at being so jumpy, Winter scolded,

“Klein, you nearly gave us a heart attack.”

“Sign of a good butler that is, to be unseen and unheard.”

He comically wiggled his bushy eyebrows at the younger sibling. Taking a handkerchief out of his breast pocket he began to fuss over the pair, wiping and flicking at errant dust and cobwebs on their grey outfits. 

“ Cook made some lovely stew.”

The two girls followed him along the servant’s passageway that widened out. Down here was the warmest part of the mansion, housing the laundry and the kitchens. Bustling with activity, uniformed members of staff nodded and bobbed in acknowledgement as they passed by on their errands. A maid stopped to show Klein some stitching on a piece of linen, who wiped out an eye glass to closer inspect it. The butler nodded and praised the young girl for a job well done. 

Down here, underneath the icy cold indifference of the family they served, it was warm, light hearted and inviting. It always put Winter in the frame of mind of a rockery. Lift up one of the frozen beautifully carved statues and underneath you would find it teeming with life. Through one door Winter spied a group of servants polishing the silverware and candle sticks like a dust assembly line, laughing and joking with each other as they worked. Pausing by an open door, from which wafted the smells of good cooking, Klein called out,

“Mauve, the lil mistresses are here.”

From depths of the kitchens, they heard a jovial voice boom, 

“I’ll be along in a minute, deary,”

Klein ushered them further into the bowels of the house finally coming out into a large cosy looking room with a huge fire crackling in the hearth. There was a long table flanked either side with long benches. The blue slate flagged floor shone from being scrubbed. In the far corner next to the fire, a comfortable looking rocking chair and a small table with a set of knitting needles and yarn. Hanging on the walls photos, some new and shiny, others yellowed with age depicting the staff over the years and their masters. Winter paused by one that depicted a huge crowd of staff dressed in black and white old fashioned uniforms outside the front of the Schnee Estate, their faces looking stern. Winter thought she recognised their grandfather as a little boy in shorts that came just above the knees, his white hair messily standing on end. 

Weiss looked around in awe at the tall back piano against the far wall. Placing her books on the table she skipped over, she went to touch the keys only to hesitate and look at the butler for permission. He gave her a fatherly smile. 

“Your mother used to come down here and play that when your grandfather was alive. He liked being down here.” 

As the youngster slid onto the piano chair, Klein patted a seat on the bench closest to the fire for Winter. Weiss began to play a beautiful and haunting melody. Never taking her eyes of her younger sibling’s erect back, Winter quietly asked, 

“How is Mama?”

Klein poked the fireplace with the poker, 

“Don’t fret your pretty little head. We’re all keeping an eye on her.”

Winter sucked on her bottom lip and gave a little sniff, 

“I’m worried about her.” She used her finger nail to pick at a splinter in the well worn wood, “We’ve hardly seen her since….. You know..”

Before the butler could reply, a maid came in with a tray laden with bowls and thick fresh loaves and the cook, Mauve, hot on her heels. Placing the tray on the table, the young woman nodded her head, before beating a hasty retreat and closing the door behind her. 

Mauve was dressed in chef whites. Unlike the rest of the household staff she did not have a single accent of grey in her uniform. She was small in stature and rotund, moving with a swift shuffle that belied her size. White hair poked out from under her hat but it was difficult to gauge her age due to the smoothness of her skin. Her cheeks were red from being in the heat of the kitchens and her forearms were thick, no doubt from hauling slabs of meat and huge pans on the cooker. She hefted a huge pot on to the table, wiping her hands on a towel that hung from her apron. With a smile and twinkle on her bright blue eyes, she cajoled the sisters, 

“Now then, look at the pair of you. The two luvs look half frozen to death, Klein.” She began to ladle the hot thick stew into the bowls. She inclined her head with a smile, “Come on, Miss Weiss, sit at the table. That’s a good lass.”

Weiss slid off the piano chair and awkwardly tried to clamber over the bench as elegantly as she could in the constricting skirt. Giving up at any attempt, she sat on down on the lip, swinging her legs round, Winter lay a supportive hand to the small of her back so she wouldnt tip over on to the flagstones. Sat in her seat, she shuffled closer to Winter.   
Mauve gave the two girls each a huge bowl of stew and a spoon, 

“There, get that into you luvs.” 

She began to take a knife to the fresh loaves, carving out thick slabs. One of the service bells began to ring out and the phone in the room began to chime. Klein got up to answer it as Mauve began to slather the bread in huge swaths of butter. With a pout, Weiss gave her stew an experimental poke, 

“What is it?”

“It’s a dish from my home town.” The cook admitted as she continued to make a pile of bread big enough to feed an army. Weiss began to dubiously inspect the depths of her bowl. Mauve ladled out some more for herself and the butler. “Its Pot stew. Perfect dish on a cold day.”

Finished with the call, Klein squeezed Weiss’s shoulders, putting on one of his many accents, 

“It will put hairs on your chest, so it will.”

Weiss let out a gleeful giggle, kicking her legs, 

“I don’t want a hairy chest, cause I won’t be able to wear gowns like Mama.”

Selecting some of the bread, Winter began to tear it up, dropping it into her stew. Using the spoon she dunked it before taking a spoonful. Weiss seemed to hold back, watching and waiting for her sister’s reaction. Biting into her spoonful, Winter’s mouth was awash with flavours, the beef was tender and the potatoes soft, the carrots and onions broke on her tongue. The homemade stock was full of aromas that set the taste buds aflame. Winter hadn't realised how hungry she was as she eagerly attacked her bowl. Not to be out done, Weiss took a spoonful only to hum delightedly at the taste. Klein threw Winter a wink as he tucked a napkin into his collar began to eat his own and Mauve watched like a proud mother hen at her hungry brood.

“Nobody on Remnant can hold a candle to Mauve’s stew.”

Winter couldn’t tell if the ruddiness of the cook’s cheeks was a blush or from the heat of the room. Mauve swatted at Klein with her towel, who ducked and gave her a toothy grin. She poured out three glasses of fresh water before taking a seat in the rocking chair by the fire and began to knit. The fire crackled in the hearth as Mauve rocked back and forth, humming a soothing tune. The clinking of cutlery off the porcelain as the food was hungrily devoured joined it’s chorus. Looping another thread over the needle, Mauve asked, 

“What was the call?”

“It was the Mistress..”

Winter’s head shot up and Weiss spoon paused half way. Cook continued to make another loop, 

“What did she want?”

“She has a guest.”

“She does?”

“I asked Gray to see to it.” He leisurely dunked his bread into the broth, “- When you’ve finished your lunch, she would like to see you, Winter.”

Winter went to stand up, only for Cook to take a mock stern tone, never looking up from her knitting needles,

“Young lady, sit down and finish your lunch. I didn’t slave over a hot stove all day for you to be running off and gallivanting about the place half starved. Not on my watch.”  
Winter’s bum collided with the bench at the slight reprimand. Klein pulled a comical face to Weiss causing the young girl to laugh.

Hesitantly, Winter asked, 

“Can Weiss come too?”

“Don’t see why not. Mistress didn’t say not to.”

Knitting needles clicked in a steady rhythm making a soothing sound as Winter began to wonder at who the guest could be. Weiss reclaimed one of her books, propping it against her water glass, eyes glued to the words on the page as she continued to haphazardly reach out for the bread plate. Winter moved it closer to the searching hand and stifled a laugh at the youngster dipping her slender finger tips into the butter. Mauve broke the relatively comfortable silence, 

“How is your schooling?”

Before Winter could reply, Weiss began to excitedly babble about their lessons. Mauve and Klein listened intently, nodding and awwing at all the appropriate moments. Weiss announced, 

“And Winter was cheeky with the tutor.”

“Urrgh , you’re such a tattle tale!” Winter gave her sister a poke in the ribs, “Klein, tell her what happens to tattle tales” 

Mauve and Klein replied in unison, 

“You slowly become a Grimm.”

Weiss asked, with suspicion, 

“How slowly?”

Once again the service bell began to tinkle. Klein cast a glance at the numerous bells set in a row up high, underneath each one a brass plaque with the name of the room written in cursive. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, the butler announced, 

“I think your Mother is ready for you. It looks like she is in the conservatory in the East Wing.”

Both girls graciously thanked Mauve for the meal. Weiss hurriedly tried to collect her books only for Klein to assure her not to worry, that they would be in her bedroom later. Winter grabbed a napkin, 

“Hold still.”

She dabbed at the younger girl’s mouth making sure that all evidence of lunch had disappeared. It wouldn’t do to turn up to an audience with their mother and her guest looking like a pauper. Weiss crinkled her nose at the onslaught as Winter chided, 

“How did you manage to get more of it on your face than in your mouth?”

As they were about to leave, Weiss dashed back to grab the book she was reading before following her sister to the door. 

“Thankyou.”

“You come down here any time you like luvs.”

\----xx----

At the entrance to the conservatory, Winter paused to straighten her appearance and make sure her sister’s hair was perfect. 

“Don’t tell Mama about the passage,” She smoothed a small wisps of hair behind Weiss ears, “- And don’t tell Mama about the tutor.” Weiss silently nodded. Winter made sure her shirt was tucked in and her black lace bow was straight, “- In fact, don’t say anything about anything, ok?”

Pushing open the glass doors into the conservatory the two girls were hit by a sweltering heat. Here their mother teased plants back to life. No expense had been spared in what Winter could only come to think was essentially a green house. It was the biggest collection of global flora in the country outside the of Atlas Botanical Gardens. Trees from Menagerie carefully cultivated sat along side bright and colourful flowers from the floating islands of Mistral. Leafy plants towered over the pair as they navigated the yellow winding paths. Somewhere the soothing noise of a babbling water feature permeated through the plant life. 

Snippets of conversation drifted through the undergrowth guiding the siblings towards their destination. 

Rounding past a rather wide and bushy plant from the far reaches of Vacuo that would sting you as soon as you looked at it, Winter and her sister came upon their mother bent over a flower bed, deep in conservation, her partner obscured from view,

“As you can see, the Clananis is rather deadly. It is the only plant known in human existence to feed both off Grimm and fauna. It’s sap is extremely poisonous if ingested. Even a sting from one of its barbs is known to cause adverse reactions in the brain leaving one in a depressive state.”

A heavy accent replied, 

“I do believe it hails from Menagerie and is rather rare to come by?”

Willow took a long sip of her drink, 

“Only in certain circles. If one is to be believed.” Willow gave a light laugh. “ It flourishes in Anima so I am told.” 

Grey stood to attention beside a table laden with drinks. As the two girls approached, he gave a polite cough.

Willow turned at the interruption. Her eyes alighting on her daughters, she broke into a huge smile. 

“Ah, my darlings.” She placed her glass on a nearby table, approaching the two girls with her arms out stretched. Weiss ran forward into her mother’s arms, hugging her round the middle. Winter remained at a distance, watching as her mother sank into a nearby chaise and patted the seat beside her which Weiss eagerly took. She observed as her mother’s every action was ever so slightly delayed. Willow beckoned over Winter and her guest, “- Come sit. Ciddy, darling, These are my daughters. Weiss.” She affectionately stroked her fingers through the little girl’s long ponytail, “And my eldest, Winter. I believe you have already met?”

Winter gasped as the guest came into view. His beard was gone, replaced by a well trimmed pencil moustache and tiny goatee favoured by the upper echelons of the sea faring merchants of Silas and port towns of Vacuo. His hair was neatly drawn back into a short and low stub of a ponytail that rested at the nuque . A golden earring twinkled in his left ear and he was decked in brightly coloured clothing decidedly warmer than when the last time she saw him. 

“Mr Cid!”

His face broke into a wolfish grin, 

“Hello, pampered little Schnee.”

Her mother broke into loud laughter. 

“That is what you used to call me.”

Berdea Cid gave a chuckle as he took the other chair, 

“Amongst other things.”

Gesturing to Grey to make another drink, Willow added, 

“Oh you cad.. It’s good to see that some people haven’t changed.”

“But Mama, I don’t understand.” Winter took a cautious step forward, “- What is he doing here?”

Drawing back her long sleeves to reveal her pale arms, Willow graciously accepted her beverage, 

“Don’t you remember, darling?” Willow took a sip of her drink, her eyes briefly closing in satisfaction, “ You wanted to learn the Combat Sabre …. This was the man I was speaking of.”

Berdea looked up at Winter, eyes dancing with mirth, 

“I am your new swordmaster.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are enjoying this fic, feel free to show your support and buy me a kofi at the address below.
> 
> http://ko-fi.com/formerlyrunephoenix6769
> 
> Keep my kitten Nym in caffeine! :)


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